


Hereditary

by skeleteen



Series: skeleteen teen wolf/marvel crossovers [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alive Claudia Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Marvel Avengers Fusion, BAMF Stiles, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale & Scott McCall are Both Alphas, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Isaac Never Left, Jealous Derek, M/M, Malia Tate is a Hale, Marvel Universe, Multi, New York City, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Stiles-centric, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:51:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeleteen/pseuds/skeleteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a blood test shows that Stiles Stilinski’s real father is actually Tony Stark, a famous weapons designer (and superhero), he’s sent to live with him for the remainder of summer vacation in order to bond and avoid legal complications. Meanwhile, Tony has to fight the instinct to protect Stiles from the danger following his lifestyle and come to terms with the fact that his son might have a few tricks up his own sleeves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paternity Test

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so there's a lot of creative liberty here.
> 
> The pack is led by both Derek and Scott, including: Stiles, Malia, Lydia, Isaac, and Kira. Allison, Erica, and Boyd being dead is canon. The Sheriff (who's name is John because Noah is not canon in my soul) died instead of Claudia, but not from dementia. I don't specify the disease. It takes place in Earth-199999, so the Avengers are the only superheroes that are real (and the few that also exist in that universe, like Daredevil, but stuff like X-Men and stuff is considered fiction).

“It’s okay to be nervous, dude.” Scott aims for a comforting smile, but he ends up looking constipated.

“I either walk out of this healthy or awaiting a slow and agonizing death.” Stiles smiles sarcastically. “I’m not nervous.”

“Your humour is terrifying and I don’t need super senses to know that’s a lie.” The tan boy mutters, pulling into the parking lot of Stiles’ doctor. “Why did I have to be the one to take you, again?”

“Because you want first dibs on my will?” Stiles laughs.

“Your test results are going to be fine, quit worrying about something that hasn’t even been confirmed yet.” Scott looked Stiles in the eye, and Stiles wondered if this is how people with biological siblings felt. The overwhelming sense of comfort that his best friend brought was something he would never admit due to pride, but he knew Scott felt the exact same way.

“Let’s hope so.” He mumbles, getting out of the passenger seat of Scott’s mom’s minivan and heading towards the entrance. The posters of happy, healthy people made him uncomfortable.

“Stilinski.” He answers the questioning gaze of the secretary, who nodded and began typing. She opened her mouth to double check his appointment and paused. Stiles felt the knot in his stomach unwind a little as he chuckled softly. “My first name is unpronounceable Polish. My appointment should be for four?”

She nods sheepishly. “Yeah, you can hang around in the waiting room. Doctor Deaton is almost finished with his last patient, you made good timing.”

The chairs were old and wood, squeaking with the anxious bobbing of Stiles’ leg. Scott slammed his hand onto his knee, stilling it.

“Calm down.” He says.

“You sound like Momma McCall.” Stiles rolls his eyes, continuing to fidget.

“I do _not_ sound like my mom, take that back.” Scott growled.

“Woah there, don’t bring out the red eyes.” Stiles lightly mocked his supernatural friend’s protests.

Scott’s expression grew grim. “I don’t want to think about it, but you know that if this turns out bad I’m going to be offering you the bite until you’re not here to say no, right?”

Stiles nods, forcing the wetness behind his eyes back with a smile. “I know, buddy. Maybe one day I’ll decide I want to start howling at the moon, but not now.”

“Stiles?” The boys look up to see Dr. Deaton standing with a clipboard. “I have the results of your blood tests, if you’ll come back with me.”

Scott trails along and Stiles silently thanks him, fretfully fidgeting with the end of his sweater’s arms.

“We actually found something of concern fairly quickly after testing your blood, but we didn’t need to worry you for it. I called your mother instead to give us some more information, is she not with you today?”

Stiles heart is going to beat out of his chest. He swallows. “She’s couldn’t get away from work to drive me. I got Scott to take me and told her I would be fine if she showed up a little late.”

“I’ll catch you up, then. You don’t have any trace of the hereditary disease we were looking for.” He begins, and Scott pounds his fist in factory. Stiles remains frozen, awaiting the _but._ “However, that’s because you don’t share DNA with the father listed on your birth certificate.”

“Is this fucking Maury? What are you talking about?” He takes a step backwards in shock.

“Stiles, you have blood type O positive. Your mother is O negative, so it makes sense if John Stilinski wasn’t type AB. We contacted your mother, who’s only suspicion was a man in New York City with blood type O positive. We tracked him down for a paternity test, and you’re a match. That’s why the results took a bit longer than usual.”

“You’re saying my dad wasn’t really my dad?” Stiles’ voice broke, betrayal running through his veins.

“Your mother made it clear that she didn’t care who the biological dad was because John would be raising you with her. I was there at your birth, your father was aware of the possibilities of you not being his by blood. He was your dad, no matter what; it just seems that you have another one.”

“This guy _wants_ me in his life?” Stiles asks incredulously. “Why would he want a sixteen year old kid he knows nothing about? Is he going to fight my mom on custody?”

“He won’t.” Stiles turns to the doorway where his mother stood sheepishly. “He’s still a friend of mine, sort of. He wants to meet you.”

“Who?” Stiles asks, chewing his bottom lip nervously.

“Stiles, you can’t freak out.” She warns.

Stiles scoffs, ready to argue when Scott rested a hand on his shoulder. He collected his thoughts.

“ _Who?_ ” He repeats, much calmer.

“Please understand that you don’t have to meet him. He’s aware he has a lot of baggage and that it would be difficult to have a steady relationship and–”

“Claudia.” Dr. Deaton interrupts, staring at her pointedly.

She looks like a mirror image of Stiles’ nervous stance when she blurts out, “Tony Stark.”

Stiles’ jaw drops and he’s pretty sure he can hear Scott’s brain imploding behind him. “Are you trying to tell me that Iron Man is my biological father, and he wants to meet me?”

“He offered for you to stay with him until school starts again, if you want.” She shrugs, quieting her voice. “I didn’t consider the possibility of you being his when I realized I was pregnant because of the danger it would have put you in. I didn’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

Stiles shakes his head, pulling his mother into a bear hug. “I don’t blame you for this. Dad was and always will be my father; I don’t care if we weren’t related. You don’t have to apologize – I know you loved dad with everything you had.”

“When did you get so mature?” She mumbles into his neck and he feels ten again, seeking comfort after his father’s death. The wound was ripped back open, no matter how hard he tried to bandage it back up.

“I want to meet him. I don’t know if I’d stay the whole summer, but if he’s making some sort of effort I guess I should too.” He ponders, glancing to see Scott’s wide eyed gaze. “This was kind of unexpected.”

“Is he allowed to tell people?” Scott inquires. “Jackson would shit himself.”

Dr. Deaton tries to hide a smile and Claudia openly beams at him. “It’s ultimately Stiles’ decision. He’s not ashamed of you; he’s just concerned because of the whole S.H.I.E.L.D. and immortal enemy’s thing.”

“Oh yeah, Stiles and danger don’t mix.” Scott teases, his eyes flashing red for a millisecond. Stiles’ grin increases.

“I’ll be fine.” He nods to his mother. “When would I meet him?”

“I’ll call him when we get home and we can figure something out, how about that?”

“Yeah, that’s good.” He nods, letting what just happened to him sink in.

 _Stiles is related to an Avenger. His biological father is a_ genius _who saved the world alongside aliens and super-spies._

“Thank you, Dr. Deaton.” Claudia smiles on their way out.

“I’m happy to help.” He nods, and the family is gone.

\---

The entire pack was in Stiles’ room, spread out anywhere from his floor to his desk chair. Scott called a meeting as soon as Stiles got home and picked everybody up, bringing them over to his house as soon as his mother ended her phone call with Tony Stark.

Stiles didn’t talk to him on the phone, choosing to just listen in to his mother’s debate with the superhero. He was painfully nervous, despite a cool exterior.

Stiles never thought he would have a dad again.

“So, you’re going to New York City for the summer and you’re not bringing me?” Lydia pouts from the beanbag chair in the corner of his room.

“I didn’t _plan_ this.” He repeats for what feels like the tenth time, opening his drawers to decide what shirts to bring with him.

“You _did_ plan to leave tomorrow, though.” Isaac grimaces. “That’s a little bit insane.”

“You don’t know this guy.” Derek nods at Isaac.

“He’s _Iron Man!_ ” Stiles throws his hands up, exasperated. “What do you want me to do, run a background check on him?”

“Yes.” His friends chorused.

“I already did.” He admits, sighing. “He’s squeaky clean, as far as my hacking standards go. He also has his own personal artificial intelligence running his house and car and everything, so I don’t know if I even made it past the first wall.”

“We could ask Danny to try, he’s better at that kind of stuff.” Kira suggests.

“He leaves _tomorrow_.” Lydia groans. “He’s going to be in New York fucking City all summer – at least say have fun. I know I’ll be having a grand time here, being the substitute researcher for you clowns.” She rolls her eyes. “Stop being overprotective.”

“You have to meet with the Alpha in New York City, she was a friend of my mom so it shouldn’t be a problem, but it will become one if you don’t actively respect her territory and authority.” Derek adds.

“Wait, that’s a thing? Also, how can there only be one Alpha in New York City? The population is huge.” Scott’s eyebrows furrow and Derek stares at him blankly.

“It’s not normal to share pack territory. Your _True Alpha_ nature made it easy for me to compromise with the council, having us co-run a pack, but it is standard for one Alpha to run a big city. The territory would be too difficult to divide.”

“There’s a werewolf council?”

“You’re all idiots.” Stiles sighs. “How are you going to live without me?”

“We’ll only be hanging on by the thread of you promising you’ll come back.” Lydia affirms. “And we’re _your_ idiots.”

“Of course.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are you done packing?” Malia asks, getting up off the floor.

Stiles finishes zipping his suitcase. “I mean, I have to pack a carry on but that’s not–”

He’s interrupted by her throwing his suitcase off his bed and onto the floor, consequently pulling him onto it with her. “Pack pile.” She mumbles.

The others join them soon after, enjoying each other’s company before one would be missing. He didn’t need to hear their well wishes because he felt, right in their breathing patterns and close proximity.

\---

Stiles went to the airport with just his mom, having said goodbye to his friends in the morning. She refused to let go of his arm, clinging onto him like a lifeline as they moved through customs and security. Only people boarding planes are supposed to go past the security checkpoint, but apparently the rules were different when your flight is on a private jet.

Yes, a _private jet_ came to pick Stiles up.

He’s sweating anxiety, any werewolf would have been able to smell it, and he tries to ignore the sadness that came with thinking about leaving his pack.

“You excited to meet Iron Man?” A man in a suit and sunglasses taking Stiles’ luggage asks him.

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always been a DC fan.”

“Oh, Tony is going to love you.” The man laughs whole heartedly. “When you’re done saying your goodbyes, go through those gates. My name is Phil Coulson, director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He points to a doorway and Stiles nods.

As soon as the man turned around, his mom had her arms wrapped around his torso.

“Hey, mom, I’ll be back in six weeks.” He smiles. “Don’t cry.”

“I cried when you started walking, I cried when you were in that Christmas play as a kid, and damn it if I’m not going to cry when you’re going to _New York City._ ” She sniffs, and Stiles knows he’s going to have tear stains on his white tee shirt.

“I’ll be good. Small town boy taking on the big city, it’ll be like those cheesy movies you love.” He grins.

She leans out of the hug, whacking him gently on the chest. “Those are classics.”

“Just because _you_ watch them hundreds of times doesn’t mean it’s a classic.” He teases.

“Little shit.” She grumbles. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” He takes a deep breath, walking towards the doors. He turns to wave once more before exiting them and tries to pretend he doesn’t look exactly like one of her cheesy movies.

Once he’s seated on the plane (which looks more like a small living room from the inside), he decides to get the whole Alpha customs thing out of the way.

“For completely valid reasons, I have to make a stop before I meet Tony.” He winces at how selfish it sounds.

One of the men in suits steps in the door from another room, lifts his nose, and turns to Stiles. “Hale-McCall pack?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t hide the way his eyebrows raise.

“I’ll make sure you see Alpha Diaz first. You reek of the Alpha’s.”

“Should I not?” He questions.

The guy smirks. “It just means you’re a favourite. She’ll be intrigued.”

Phil looks between the two before zeroing in on Stiles. “Are you a werewolf too?”

“No.” The security agent answered for him. “But he is in one of the most respected packs in the United States. I think I’ve heard rumours about the non-were’s over there – do you really have a Banshee _and_ a Kitsune?” His eyes light up in curiosity  
Stiles nods.  

“ _Cool._ ” The guy sighs dreamily, and Stiles compares it to how he feels about Batman.

“Well then.” Phil leans in his chair, clearly impressed. “I guess this will be interesting.”


	2. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Alpha Diaz of New York City before finally heading to Stark Tower (Avengers Tower), where he meets Tony and Pepper.

Werewolves love puns. Through the various high profile incidents that the Avengers have taken care of, their abilities were made transparent to the public. However, with werewolves, there hasn’t been anything other than folklore about them to prove their existence. It became one giant inside joke to slip in dog, wolf, and Greek letters into conversation (especially around oblivious humans).

Stiles grins as the long, black car he’s in pulls into an apartment complex called _Delta Housing._

The plane journey was long, landing in New York City around seven at night. Stiles was in a daze as they transferred his luggage from the jet to a sleek limousine, just barely remembering to send a quick text to his Mom acknowledging his safe arrival. Phil and the security guard from before – who he’d chatted up along the way to find out his name was Ben – joined him.

“Was Beta housing taken?” Stiles points to the building.

Ben beams back at him. “We considered that, but my Alpha also lives here and provides refuge to Omega’s requesting to join the pack. She wanted it to be inclusive. We thought a Greek letter would be good enough as homage to the Alpha, Beta, and Omega thing.”

He’s slightly taken aback by the claim, nodding. He’s feeling more and more comfortable in the big city.

Once they entered the lobby, they were met by curious looks from passer-byers as they walked towards the elevator. While waiting for it to come down, Stiles felt a tug on his black jeans. His line of vision met a small boy, no more than five years old.

“You smell different.” He exclaimed proudly.

Stiles crouches down, faking surprise. “Wow! You must be a very good wolf to have figured that out. I’m from California. I’m staying here for a little bit, is that cool with you?”

The kid smiles coyly. “Yep!”

“ _Thank you,_ sir _._ ” Stiles makes a grand gesture of shaking his hand, stepping into the elevator and leaving the giggles of the audience they drew behind him.

“That was nice. The pack will be gossiping about you for _days_.” Ben bumps Stiles’ shoulder with his own when the doors close, moving to press the top floor button to avoid a return attack.

Stiles mocks offense. “I thought my impression would last at least two weeks.”

“It just might, depending on just how special you are to your Alpha’s. With the way you’re bathed in their scent, I’d expect you to be attached to them by the hip.” He shrugs.

Phil looks inquisitively between the two. “Just what exactly do you do in your pack?”

“Research, mostly.” Stiles shrugs. “I’m more of a therapist for them all; we’ve been through a lot. I think I ground them a bit when their wolf side is worked up. It’s nothing major.”

“I’ve heard entirely different things from your Alpha’s.” A female voice rings out and the doors to the elevator open, revealing a well-dressed woman with a light smile on her face. There were no hallways like a regular apartment complex, but rather it opened to one giant common room with doors littered around the walls. Bedrooms, he presumes.

“Alpha Diaz, I suppose?” He walks forward, shaking her hand lightly and hoping she doesn’t notice the nervous sweat. “I’m Stiles, from the Hale-McCall pack.”

“I have heard plenty about you, Stiles. Come on in, all of you.” She leads them to a corner with a few bright blue couches in it. He takes a seat on one next to Phil, facing Ben and Alpha Diaz. She’s tan, with loose brown curls thrown carelessly into a bun on top of her head. Her dress is blue, matching the theme of the decorations around the room. He tries to look less like he’s lost in awe, but the room was _huge_.

“I understand you can do a bit of magic, yes?” She inquires.

His eyebrows rise as he considers the question. “I use mountain ash for protection a lot, and I’ve learned how to do some protection wards and stuff to keep away certain things. Maybe a spell or two, but I play defense.”

“That’s a very respectable position, a guard, though I might be better to call you a wild card. You have magic, like a Druid or emissary, but you also go out into the battles far more than a human is expected. You have a very close bond with every single member of your back, they all vouched that there would be hell to pay should something happen while you were under my care. You keep them all connected and anchored.” She gives him an amused smile. “You’re very strong, Stiles. I don’t think I will have to protect you much at all, but you do have my word as an Alpha and an ally that I will lend you help if you need it.”

“Wait, you’re good with him just like that?” Phil narrows his eyes. “I thought this was a super official interview or something.”

Alpha Diaz laughs, “I was quite excited to meet the Hale-McCall human when Derek called me. I know that he would not send someone he cares so much about if he was worried about him acting out – I can see that both Scott and he care very much about you. You smell.” She turns to Stiles. “I hope you enjoy your time in my territory.”

“How many werewolves live in New York City? Do they all have to ask permission to come? Do you have a lot of meetings like this?” Stiles fires off some questions.

She pauses to stare at him like she’s trying to solve a puzzle before answering. “Once a werewolf has entered my territory and introduced themselves to our pack before, they just need to ‘check in’ with an email or call, per se, when they reenter. I rarely meet with them personally; they’ll just go to one of my Beta’s to be screened.”

“You’re a special case.” Ben grins.

“I’ve been hearing that a lot in the past few minutes, my ego has grown three sizes.” He tries to hide the flush in his cheeks.

“New York either makes or breaks you; I’m just giving a warm welcome.” She smiles widely. “C’mon, I’ll walk with you to the lobby and make sure the front desk knows you’re welcome.”

He smiles, reminded of his pack and mother’s affection. The elevator ride down was filled with comfortable chatter that undid any nerves left in Stiles.

At the front desk, the man behind the counter asks about the kid whose hand Stiles shook. He and Ben share a knowing smile and Stiles laughs heartily, accepting the compliment about dealing with one of their cubs. Stiles makes a joke about how he’s practically the mother of the Hale-McCall pack, and though many people chuckle, he knows that they’re aware of its truth.

It’s the first time in a while Stiles hasn’t been with or making plans with a pack member. He doesn’t know how to feel.

He sends a quick message to their group chat while Diaz talks to her Beta’s, _I ran into a baby werewolf and he reminded me of you idiots <3_

Derek replies instantly. _The meeting with Alpha Diaz went well?_

 _Yes, Dad._ Stiles counters.

Stiles grins when Isaac pipes in, _Maybe not a good joke considering the situation. Also, if Derek’s our dad then YOU’RE MOM._

 _I just made that joke to the Diaz pack._ He replies. _It went over well. I’m enthusiastically accepted as your mother._

Scott types, _DO WE HAVE PACK TELEPATHY!!!!???_

 _That’s not a thing._ Lydia’s text reads simply.

 _She’s a much less fun research dude than you :(_ Scott retorts.

 _Go meet Tony._ Derek states simply, and Stiles locks his phone and puts it in his pocket, asking Phil when they’re heading out.

\---

Okay, Stiles didn’t really think the whole _my biological father is a billionaire_ thing through.

The same car that initially dropped them off at _Delta Housing_ brought Phil and Stiles to a large, futuristic looking building in the middle of Manhattan with giant letters at the top reading a familiar name – STARK. Stiles felt his jaw dropping at the sheer size. The entire building belongs to someone with half of his DNA.

“I felt that way the first time I saw this place, too.” Phil chuckles at Stiles’ expression.

He sputters. “I’m from a small town in California, all I know is trees and hills.”

“Werewolves don’t usually like cities, do they? I’ve never had the chance to ask about it to anyone who knows first hand.”

Stiles tears his gaze away from the tower, nodding his head. “It’s too hard to keep a secret for new wolves. Most prefer large, under populated areas where they’re free to roam and use their heightened senses without consequences, like major headaches, but that doesn’t stop them all. You can’t make someone hate the city – even if the wolf inside them naturally detests it, they can make compromises.”

They drive into garage looking building and park. Stiles is about to ask if they should get out when he finds that they’re being lowered into the ground into a hidden area.

“What is this?” He stares at Coulson.

He smiles. “A paparazzi-free entrance.”

“Paparazzi?” Stiles’ eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“A superhero and ingenious weapons designer, who was previously thought to be quite irritatingly sarcastic and standoffish, is found to have a kid. He’s big news – so are you.”

“How did they find out?”

“He cancelled a few public appearances based on family reasons. Everyone knows he doesn’t have any immediate family alive, and Pepper was fine. People went digging. The only reason your name isn’t out there is because they thought _Przemysław_ had to be some kind of pseudonym.” He chuckles.

Stiles bursts into fits of laughter at the man’s attempt to say his birth name. “That was horrible.”

The car stops lowering at when Stiles looks out the window, there’s an empty grey room around him. The doors open automatically, a feature he was unaware of, and he gingerly exits the vehicle.

There’s a circle in the ceiling where they descended, and Stiles and Phil move away from the corresponding circle around the vehicle. Once they’re outside of the perimeter, the chunk of flooring begins moving upwards again.

Stiles whistles, impressed.

“There’s plenty time for you to gush over Tony’s stuff. You’ve got to actually meet the guy first.” Phil rolls his eyes, clapping a hand on his shoulder and leading him to an inconspicuous doorway that was painted the same grey as the walls.

A red light emits out of the top of the doorway, scanning Stiles and Phil.

“ _Welcome, Agent Coulson and Przemysław Stilinski._ ” A British voice emitted from somewhere in the room. Stiles looked around, only to have Phil pull him through the door with a sigh.

“It’s J.A.R.V.I.S.” He explains.

“That’s the name for his artificial intelligence, right?” Stiles looks around the hallway they entered briefly before he was being pulled into an elevator. “It actually pronounced my name right, but I’d rather not hear it every day.”

“ _What name would you prefer, Mr. Stilinski?_ ” J.A.R.V.I.S. calls out.

“Uh, Stiles.” He replies gingerly.

“ _Very well then, Stiles._ ”

A goofy grin creeps up on his face. “Cool.”

Phil rolls his eyes, swiping a key card against a scanner and pressing a button that read _PENTHOUSE._ The elevator began moving so quickly that Stiles almost lost his footing.

“Should I be as nervous as I am right now?” He wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans, darting his eyes around the small space. “I’m super nervous. If I have a panic attack, call Derek.”

“ _Shall I put Derek down as an emergency contact?_ ” J.A.R.V.I.S. inquires. “ _At this time, only Claudia Stilinski is listed._ ”

Stiles tilts his head in contemplation. “Well, yeah, probably. That could come in handy. Add Scott, too. He’ll be upset if I only list one of my Alpha’s.” He lists off Derek’s phone number, which he had memorized at some point in sophomore year, and Scott’s, which he’d known since the boy had gotten his first phone.

Phil snorts. “He’s going to have your entire contact list by the end of this – believe me.”

“I’m sure J.A.R.V.I.S. will love my friends.” Stiles grins.

“ _Their background checks make them seem like lovely people, Stiles._ ”

Stiles smiles mockingly at Phil. “See?”

The elevator stops, Stiles’ laughter ending with it. “Oh man, nerves.”

“Relax.” Phil orders. He gently pushes him out of the safety of the elevator and into an apartment – Tony Stark’s apartment, Stiles’ _father’s_ apartment. Directly in his line of vision, sitting on a bar stool in front of an island in the kitchen area, was Pepper Potts. Stiles didn’t have to do a lot of research to know what the CEO of Stark Industries and long term girlfriend of Tony looked like, but he didn’t expect to meet her with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“Oh my gosh!” She tries to speak clearly, but it comes out more like _orh muh gorph!_ She drops her spoon and waves her hand in front of her face frantically before speaking clearly a few moments later. “You’re Stiles!”

He stares at her with wide eyes. “You’re Pepper.”

She moves around the island, walking until she was standing directly in front of him. She rests her hands on his shoulders, squinting at him. “You’re taller than I expected. You’ve got at least an inch on Tony; he’s going to be so pissed.”

He chuckles awkwardly. “I’ve got plenty of time to piss him off. My doctor says I’m still growing.”

She hums in agreement, turning her head to Phil. “Thanks for being the guide, Phil. I heard you had to make an extra stop with Agent Ben, what was that about?”

Stiles turns his head to Phil with wide eyes, shaking it rapidly. “We should wait until Tony’s here. I’m not having this conversation twice.”

Pepper frowns, but Phil thankfully nods. “It would make sense to just wait for Tony. I don’t know if he’s even aware of half the stuff Stiles is involved in.”

“You’re not on drugs, are you?” She narrows her eyes at him.

“Nothing that isn’t prescribed.” He shrugs.

“Let’s keep it that way.” She nods. “Tony’s been in the tech lab all day – he works when he’s nervous – you can go down whenever you want. I seriously doubt you’ll see him until breakfast tomorrow morning if you don’t. Phil or I can go with if you want, but that’s your decision.”

“Um, I’ll go.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Which way?”

A door opens to his right. It’s a staircase, spiraling downwards into what he assumes is Tony’s workplace.

“ _Whenever you’re ready, Stiles._ ” J.A.R.V.I.S. speaks up.

A laugh bubbles out of Pepper. “Of course you’re already friends with J.A.R.V.I.S.”

Stiles finds himself chuckling too. He walks towards the door, pausing to nod in thanks to Phil and Pepper, before descending.

It was cooler on this level, he notes. His plain tee shirt no longer felt sufficient as goosebumps littered his arms at the change in temperature. He hears the sound of drilling and metal scraping and feels anxiousness rising inside of him.

Once he’s at the bottom of the steps, he sees him. He has a protection mask over his face to shield him from the sparks and is entirely too focused on whatever he’s trying to cut in half to notice Stiles sneaking up on him. Stiles hasn’t been able to sneak up on someone in a while, having been with werewolves for so long, so it shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did when Tony turned and accidentally flew a bunch of burning embers onto his arm.

Tony immediately turns off his saw, lifting up his mask with wide eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Stiles stared down at his bleeding arm before sighing. He raised his opposite hand and placed it over the tender flesh, mumbling something incoherent to the average person and shutting his eyes. Tony stared in wonder as his son’s burnt tissue began to reassemble until you could no longer tell that it had been touched in the first place.

“Sorry about that.” Stiles grinned uneasily. “I guess it is better if we get that elephant out of the room first, though.”

They both turn their head at the sound of heels clicking, spotting Pepper rushing down the stairs with Phil close behind.

“I heard yelling!” She shouts. “Is everything alright?”

Tony furrows his eyebrows. “He just healed his own arm when I accidentally knocked some sparks onto it.”

Phil swears and everyone turns their attention to him.

“Let’s discuss this upstairs.” He suggests, and the group trudge up the stairs in the most uncomfortable silence Stiles has ever been subjected to. They end up in a living room type area – it’s an open concept apartment so Stiles has no idea what it is supposed to be called – where the quiet continues.

“So, how do you feel about werewolves?” Stiles tries to smile confidently, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

“I know they exist.” Tony begins slowly. “Are you one? Is Claudia?”

“No!” Stiles protests quickly. “I’m just in a pack with a bunch of them – I have two Alpha’s – I’m definitely human.”

“Is healing yourself considered human?” Pepper asks skeptically. “Are you positive you’re not on drugs, even magical ones?”

“I have a _spark_ , for lack of better word choice. My mom was a part of a pack, one of my Alpha’s mothers ran it, when she was pregnant with me. It’s been recorded that being surrounded by supernatural influences during development can make the child more sensitive to mystical things. What you saw was me channeling power from my pack to help myself out.” Stiles tries explaining it, but Tony and Pepper still look confused. “Okay, so imagine–”

“Basically, he can do a few simple spells and wards but nothing fancy.” Phil interrupts and Stiles nods, shrugging.

“And he’s in a _pack_ , that’s dangerous.” Pepper counters.

“He’s obviously not going to leave it.” Tony nudges her, adding gently, “They’re more his family than I am right now, and I just burned his arm.”

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek to keep from frowning at the statement. He’d never really considered how Tony would be handling the situation. Stiles was just nervous to meet him, but Tony must have felt guilty and scared on top of that.

“You can call any of my Alpha’s at any time if you have any questions or concerns.” Stiles speaks up. “Wait, that makes them sound like my secretary. You’re not – I mean – what I’m getting at is that you’re my biological dad and I want you in my life, all parts of it. If it’s weird then I understand that, but I would appreciate if you were on friendly terms with my pack. I’m on a status lower than Alpha but higher than Beta, so it’s kind of super important to me.”

Tony smiles lightly and nods.

“What’s higher than Beta?” Phil asks.

Stiles shrugs. “Me, I guess. The Beta’s listen to my orders but I can’t order around Scott or Derek. I can try, and sometimes they listen, but they don’t have the whole bow their head in submission thing going on. They only listen to me because I’m smart, not because their instinct tells them to. That puts me somewhere in the middle.”

“I have a lot to learn about you.” Tony admits.

“We’ve already covered all the horrifying things.” He grins optimistically. “Though, I haven’t eaten since the plane ride and my favourite food is pizza, in case you wanted to learn something new.”

“ _Should I call for pizza, sir?_ ” J.A.R.V.I.S. asks, causing the tension in the room to completely dissipate and filling it with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a slightly slow build because of all the different characters that have to interact and form a relationship (namely Stiles and the Avengers), but I promise it'll take off somewhere. Thanks for sticking around, I hope you enjoy what's to come.


	3. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Clint and Steve, featuring paparazzi, a fan, and Momma Stilinski's advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, new chapter. I meant for this to be a weekly update thing, but life is just out here destroying dreams. I'm glad to have this up for you guys, thanks again for all the loooove.

Stiles wakes up to angry whispers.

After eating with Tony and Pepper the night before, he had immediately gone to his new room to get settled. He didn’t get anything unpacked before the queen sized bed in the middle of the room began calling out to him. He tried fighting it in his head, arguing that he needed to empty the suitcase, but the jet lag won fairly quickly. All he managed to do was pull out a pair of sweatpants to change into before giving in.

He strains his ears to listen. One of the voices is definitely Phil, who apparently stayed over, but the other is new. Though the sounds are harsh, it didn’t seem like anything was seriously wrong, so Stiles crawls out of the bed and made his way to the door. A short hallway leads him to the common area, where the new voice was put to the face of a blonde man near the doorway. He stood in front of Phil, arms crossed, with an amused smirk on his face.

His eyes lit up when he noticed the teenager’s presence.

“Hey, neighbour.” He holds out a hand, to which Stiles sleepily shook. “I’m Clint.”

“The floor below us?” Stiles mumbles to himself, but the two men take notice.

“You know him?” Phil raises an eyebrow at him.

“I might have done a little unethical research before coming here.” He admits bashfully. “Just to find out who would be in the building.”

“Research isn’t finding the location of my living quarters.” Clint squints at him, as if sizing up how much of a threat he could be. The answer must be _not at all_ , because he smiles after a pregnant pause. “That’s hacking. It’s also a talent I don’t have, so I respect it.”

“You cannot befriend Tony’s kid – you’re both reckless idiots.” Phil deadpans. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

Clint and Stiles pout before speaking in unplanned unison: “You’re no fun.”

They high five quickly, sharing grins.

“C’mon, babe.” Clint wraps an arm around Phil’s middle, and _oh, that’s a factor Stiles didn’t find in his research_. “You’re not his bodyguard; he’s got wolves for that. You don’t have to play the responsible figure here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He scoffs, leaning into Clint’s touch.

Stiles’ phone begins blasting the sound of a wolf howling and a smile overtakes his face as he scrambles to answer. Derek’s familiar picture covers the screen, enticing an even larger grin out of the boy. Phil and Clint watch in amusement at his reaction.

“Derek, hi.” Stiles answers slightly breathless.

“ _Hey, did I wake you?_ ” His voice rings out, concerned.

Stiles shakes his head before remembering he isn’t there to see him. “No, I got up a few minutes ago. Phil is here and I just met Clint. How are things back home?”

“ _We’re better when you’re here_.” He sighs, and a fond smile crosses Stiles’ face. “ _Everyone is safe, if that’s what you mean. Scott has been a bit whiny since you’ve been gone, but I’m used to his kicked puppy expression by now_.”

They both laugh.

“It’s weird being away, but it’s good so far. I want this to work.” He ignores the ache in his chest with Derek and home written all over it.

Stiles moves into the kitchen, gently asking Phil and Clint if they mind if he puts the phone on speaker while he makes food. They both gesture for him to go ahead, and the next time Derek speaks, it rings out into the whole room.

“ _If you’re ever homesick, don’t be shy about calling. If it’s an embarrassment thing, you should know that I’ve been up since five in the morning deciding when to call. I knew you would sleep in, too, but I’m too used to seeing you every day. You’re pack_.”

“Wait, it’s eleven in the morning here. Is that eight over there? You’ve been waiting for three hours?” He moves to heat up an element on the stove to fry an egg, but apparently Tony doesn’t have time for preheating. The element reads out that it’s ready as soon as he turned it on. Stiles shrugged, pulling out a pan.

“ _Yes_.” And _god_ , he doesn’t even give Stiles the courtesy of sounding self-conscious. He makes it sound like calling Stiles is the most natural thing in the world for him, that wanting him is something he’s completely accepted, like it’s a thing they do. He hopes his affection for his Alpha isn’t as painfully obvious as it feels.

Stiles tries to fight the smile on his face, knowing Phil and Clint were listening and watching attentively as if he was a reality TV show. He cracked an egg onto the pan and began frying it.

“You’re going to be upset with how often I call now. I’m across the country and I’m going to make you wish I would shut up.” He teases.

“ _I wouldn’t mind_.”

“I guess nobody can resist the Stilinski charm.” He muses. “Not even you, sourwolf.”

“ _It’s more like a rash I can’t seem to get rid of that requires a lot of attention_.”

“You miss this rash.”

“ _Yeah, I do. I’ll talk to you later, I promised Lydia I’d drive her to some museum thing she wanted to go to. I might end up being forced to tag along_.”

“You definitely will. Bye, Derek.” He swallows the lump in his throat, knowing that Lydia would have made him do the same if he was there. He knows it’s stupid, because he would have complained the entire time, but now that he _can’t_ be dragged along to her trips he misses them.

“ _Bye, Stiles. Stop worrying about us and have some fun._ ”

Clint starts laughing as soon as the call ends. Stiles turns around from the stove to see him and Phil sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen island, where there was bar-like stools. “You’ve been bit by the love bug.”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve dealt with real love bugs before. They’re fucking annoying.” He sighs. “And I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”

“Wait, you’re not dating that guy?” Phil genuinely seems confused.

Stiles shakes his head, putting his food onto a plate and sitting across from them. “Even if hypothetically, I liked him, it would ruin everything. He’s emotionally constipated and self-deprecating and it could ruin our pack stability.”

“ _But you love him anyways._ ” Clint sings in a high, teasing voice.

Phil nudges his boyfriend in the shoulder for his comment before turning to Stiles with a sympathetic expression. “He cares about you a lot more than any normal pack relationship I’ve seen. A relationship could make your pack even more secure, but I get where you’re coming from.”

Clint grins wickedly at him. “It was unprofessional of him to like me, with him technically being my boss, but that didn’t stop him from letting me be boss in the bedro–”

“Please don’t make him run home already, I quite like his company.” A new voice interrupted Clint’s speech. Stiles turned to smile at Pepper as she descended a staircase leading to her and Tony’s room, dressed in a sleek pantsuit. Stiles’ pyjamas suddenly felt out of place.

“Morning, Pepper.”

She smiles back at him before crossing her arms at Clint. “I thought Tony asked you guys to hold off on meeting Stiles until he was settled.”

“Am I not allowed to visit my dear Phil?” He pouts sarcastically, drawing an eye roll out of her.

“You always have a double motive.” Her voice is that of a mother scolding a child, but Stiles can see she’s fighting off a fond smile. He pauses eating his meal to give his full attention to the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Why do we have to wait so long before he can go out?” He whines. “I guarantee you the kid wants to go explore New York City. I haven’t had the chance to do any touristy things and I’ve lived here for _years_ , Pepper. Do not tell me he’s going to spend these six weeks stuck in this tower. J.A.R.V.I.S. isn’t that great of company.”

“ _I resent that statement, Agent Hawkeye._ ”

“And here I thought we were on first name basis, Jarvie.” Clint clutches his heart in mock hurt.

“ _Of course, Clinton._ ”

“Smartass.”

“Do you want to do this for Stiles or for you?” Pepper raises an eyebrow at him.

“Both?” He answers tentatively before nodding quickly. “Definitely both. He’s going to have to face the music someday, Potts. If he’s going to have paparazzi shove a camera in his face he might as well have a hot dog from one of those street vendors in one hand and an _I heart New York_ shirt on.”

“I’ll take a hot dog, but my loyalty lies with California.” Stiles interjects, earning a grin from Clint and a warning glare from Pepper.

She bites the inside of her cheek, sighing. “I’m going to regret this.”

“Fuck yes!” Clint pumps a fist in the air.

“You have to bring Steve.” She says. “No arguments.”

“Captain America?” Stiles stares at her incredulously.

“If this is about seeing New York, you have to bring him. The guy grew up here in the twenties. He knows this city like the back of his hand but he hasn’t even been to the top of the Empire State Building. He could use a day out of the tower.”

“I have to duck out for a meeting, but I’m interested in seeing where this goes.” Phil raises an eyebrow at her. “I also feel like this is about more than just Steve.”

She smiles. “You’re busy and I’ll need someone I believe to be responsible as their babysitter.”

Phil laughs, saying a quick goodbye to Stiles and kissing Clint on the cheek before leaving.

Clint opens his mouth to argue with Pepper before promptly shutting it. “Fine, I’ll bring Captain Joy-kill. Happy?”

“Very. Don’t do anything stupid – Tony is already going to be mad enough that I let you go.”

“You can trust me, Pepper.” He stands, moving around the island and throwing an arm over Stiles’ shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t trust you. That’s why Steve is going.” She smiles slyly. “J.A.R.V.I.S., please send a message to Steve about exploring the city with Stiles and Clint.”

“ _I already did, Miss Potts. He says you will owe him a favour for this._ ”

“He’s such a drama queen.” Clint grumbles, causing Stiles to snort.

“You two – be on your best behaviour.” She points at both of them, ignoring their best attempts at innocent smiles.

As soon as she leaves, Clint drops his fake smile and turns to Stiles. “My best behaviour isn’t all that good.”

\---

He’d taken a moment to fish a pair of jeans and a light blue tee shirt from his suitcase and brush his teeth before they left to see the Steve Rogers that Stiles learned about in his American history courses. Clint described him as a mix between that one too-happy-for-five-in-the-morning camp counsellor everyone had at some point and a 1950’s hair gel model.

Stiles first thought is, _He looks more like a tired dad than the sexed up hero the media tries to make him seem like._

He nods at Stiles when he shakes his hand, as if that means something he’s supposed to understand, and then turns to Clint.

“I don’t like this.” He says simply.

Clint isn’t dismayed by his colleague’s tone, but rather smiles at it. “I know. That’s my favourite part.”

The ride down is slightly awkward as Stiles listens to Steve and Clint banter, but the excitement is buzzing underneath his skin. New York City isn’t somewhere he ever imagined himself being able to lay eyes on, let alone next to two Avengers.

People fully stop what they’re doing when they notice the three men exiting the elevator. They entered some sort of lobby (which Stiles obviously missed in his inconspicuous entrance) where people were dressed in business attire. Steve waves to the crowd and they disperse.

“Whoa.” Stiles mutters under his breath.

“Just wait until we get outside.” Clint laughs, clapping a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Cameras await them. Apparently they aren’t allowed inside, because the door to the tower acts as a barrier for a group of hounding reporters holding fluffy microphones and large lenses in his face.

The same questions were repeated over top of each other until it sounded like a Banshee’s scream.

Stiles squints at the light, gripping onto the fabric of Steve’s jacket as a means to make his way through the crowd. “I’d answer a question if you backed the fuck up.”

The cameras are off them in an instant and the paparazzi keep a distance, lowering their voices to a manageable hum of excitement.

“I thought they were supposed to be disrespectful and viscous?” He whispers to Clint, earning an eye roll from both superheroes.

“They are, but they have _nothing_ on you right now. You _shouldn’t_ say anything, but I’m not one to boss people around.” The _unlike some people_ was implied when he gave a shit-eating grin to Steve, as if daring him to say something otherwise.

Stiles points to a girl who looks like she’s his age who’s staring at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“You.” He says, pointing to a girl his age in the front, because he’s apparently calling the shots.

She sputters a bit and the grown men and women around her with official looking equipment groan, mumbling about how she’s just a blogger, not a _real_ reporter.

“Uh, what made you show up after all these years?”

“A genetic disease.” He begins, watching the faces of the audience start to smile at their big story, “That turned out to be not so genetic, because Tony is my biological dad. Blood tests and all proving me a legitimate baby, you know, the usual. I’m here for the summer.” He turns his finger to a guy with a mustard stain on his jacket and points, deciding he could use the big break.

“The only name we have is in some kind of Polish, but you’re obviously American, or at least North American? You could be Canadian.” He rambles.

 “Uh, I go by Stiles. The Polish name is real, so you _can_ print it, I guess, but it’d just be a bad day for everyone reading it. I’m from California.” He shrugs.

“I don’t have a criminal history that you’ll be able to dig up, so don’t bother.” He addresses the crowd generally. “That’s all.”

There are sounds of protest, but he ignores it. This isn’t a press conference.

“Let’s go.” Steve came up behind Stiles, setting a hand on his back with one hand and grabbing Clint from wondering off with the other.

“Where to first?” Clint muses.

“The Empire State Building, duh.” Stiles replies, already turning left. He looks at his phone’s directions instead of where he’s going and is oblivious to Steve gently moving him out of the way when he almost hits something, or someone. “It’s only two blocks away.”

\---

Stiles insists they don’t need special treatment and that they can wait in line like everyone else.

Clint gets security to take them up a private elevator to the top, allowing them to skip the line.

Though Stiles is miffed that they missed out on the authentic experience, he shuts up when he sees the view.

“Whoa.” He mumbles. “We aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

“I thought you were from California?” Steve turns to him with furrowed eyebrows.

Stiles laughs. “It’s a quote from the Wizard of Oz; the main character gets swept from Kansas into a new world.”

“You’d know that if you actually read the list of pop culture references we keep on the fridge for you to Google. That's an old one, too, you might just be dumb.” Clint scoffs, moving to the edge of the building where a glass barrier stood, leaning against it. Steve follows him tentatively like a child scared of heights.

Stiles frowns, looking around him. Though there are people on the top of the building, there is no flow of people replacing them once they leave. He assumes they temporarily stopped the line of people they passed on their way up from coming in until they leave.

“This is so surreal.” He sighs, looking at the seemingly endless stream of buildings.

Steve laughs humourlessly. “It’s like a spot the difference between now and when I was your age.”

“Pepper said you hadn’t been.” Clint says curiously.

“I didn’t freeze until the end of the second world war.” He corrects. “This place opened at the start of the thirties. I went before I even dreamed of becoming some sort of war hero. The great depression had begun, but I started saving as soon as construction began. It was the highest building in the world.”

“You’ve always had a thing for being on top.” Clint says offhandedly.

Stiles sputters. “Is that a double entendre?”

Clint’s eyes widen when he realizes what he says, as do Steve’s.

“God, no!” He cries, covering his face with his hands. “I take back all of the friendship we had built. It’s gone.”

Steve stares between the two and smiles, amused. “He was trying to take a shot at me being a somewhat bossy leader and it backfired.”

“It still would’ve sounded like sex if he called you a bossy guy who likes being on top.” Stiles snorts.

A girl comes up from behind and taps him on the shoulder. He turns quickly, taking a step back when he found a pretty brunette’s face less than an appropriate width’s from his face.

She let out a nervous breath. “Can I take a picture with you?”

He tries to hide the flustered look on his face, but he struggles. “Um, me?”

“Yeah.” She rests her hand on his arm in what he assumes is meant to be flirty, but he just feels a little violated by the way she looks like she wants to eat him. “Tony Stark is your dad, right?”

Stiles nods slowly.

She grins. “Perfect. Can one of you take this?”

Clint’s holding back a laugh as she hands her phone to him and he gets it ready to take a picture.

Now, Stiles is openly bisexual and his vision is clear. He knows the girl clinging to his side is _really_ attractive. She bends one of her long, tan legs and juts out her hip, smiling professionally at the phone. He tries to follow Lydia and Kira's advice for photos and opts for a light grin while standing tall.

His eyes follow as the girl twirls her long wavy hair around her pointer finger and tilts her head at him when she gets her phone back. “Do you have Instagram?”

“Uh, yeah.” He nods, spelling out _przemyslaws_ (which was an unsurprisingly easy username to get). “That’s the first photo I’ve taken with someone since my face has gone public.”

“It kind of looks suggestive for a first photo.” She scrunches her nose at the screen. “I won’t post it if you don’t want right now, but it does look good.”

He looks over her shoulder to see the photo, and yeah, that’s the definition of suggestive _._

They not only look like a couple, but the practically bare viewing area in the background made them look like a particularly attractive and powerful couple. Stiles is mildly overwhelmed by finding _himself_ attractive for the first time in a photograph. His hand looks natural around her waist, like he’s a calm and collected guy rather than the one who was overanalyzing every bit of his facial expression in that moment.

“Shit.” He mumbles. “I’m reposting that.”

“Teenagers are so weird.” Clint scoffs, looking at Steve for confirmation, who shrugs as if to say _how would I know? I was frozen in ice for decades._

The girl sends her photo with the caption _found myself a stark_ with a winking emoticon and turns to the men. “Selfie?”

“What-ie?” Steve mutters, blinking quickly when she appears between the two with her front-facing camera open on her phone.

Their smiles look more like grimaces, Stiles is sure, but she looks pleased, waving them goodbye.

Stiles pulls out his phone and screenshots the photo before his notifications will ultimately blow up and uploads it to his own account with the caption _stealing tony’s fans and privileges._

“Central park?” Stiles pointed to the mass of green through the glass.

“Why not?” Clint shrugs.

 ---

 _Why not?_ Because everyone in New York City had seen that the trio had gone outside and they were met with swarms of people everywhere they turned, forcing them to call someone at Tony’s tower to pick them up.

He wasn’t pouting (much), but Tony’s lecturing didn’t help his mood.

“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea to take Stiles, who I _just_ connected with, into the middle of New York City with two _super_ celebrities as his security!” He rants, waving his hands sporadically at Pepper.

“He _was_ secure.” She argues.

“The problem is you just put a giant target on his back! He already has that from California with supernatural beings, now it’s going to be super spies too. And _you two,_ ” He turns to Clint and Steve, who are sitting awkwardly on a loveseat. “You let him post pictures online _while still at the location_ , that’s like celebrity 101!”

“I didn’t say something wrong, did I?” Stiles winces.

“No, the media thinks you’re a fucking national treasure. It’s horrible. They want you on Ellen.” He groans, taking a seat between him and Pepper on a couch.

“Ellen’s cool.” He shrugs. “But she’s in LA and I’m here for the summer. I don’t want to do any publicity things, I just want to make this as normal as possible.”

“You don’t want to leave yet?” Tony raises an eyebrow at him, and Stiles is momentarily startled at how he almost replied with a whine of _Dad_.

“No, idiot.” He scoffs.

“Like father like son.” Clint smiles wide at the two and Steve takes a decorative pillow and shoves it in his face.

“We’ll get out of your hair.” Steve nods at Tony, dragging Clint away as he shouts his goodbyes.

“It’s only five o’clock, what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day?” Stiles sighs.

“If you don’t leave the tower I don’t care.” Pepper sighs.

Tony nods. “Have you gotten a chance to Skype anyone from home since you got here?”

Stiles shakes his head, standing up. “Not yet, I should call my mom.”

Tony groans. “She’s going to kill me.”

“I won’t sic her on you.” He laughs, walking towards his room.

\---

“You are good though, right?” Claudia Stilinski’s eyebrows furrow as she observes her son through a screen. He’s looked content for the majority of their call, but he’s not known for being overly open with his problems in the past with her.

“It’s… weird.” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like I _know_ him, like I can tell he’s like me, but I don’t know him the way I want to just yet. I almost called him _dad_ today, god, is that a punch in the face to dad?”

“Oh, honey, I know he wouldn’t have cared. All he ever wanted was the best for you; you know he would understand if he were still here.” She sighs. “Don’t feel guilty for liking the guy.”

“I can’t help it; I’m loyal to a fault.” He grumbles.

“You can be loyal to more than one group.” She says pointedly. “You’re loyal to your pack and New York’s pack. You can be loyal to this family and Tony’s.”

Stiles nods to dismiss the topic, but he plays the sentence in his head more than once. He didn’t even realize he was pushing against the idea of Tony being his _dad_ until now.

He can be loyal to more than one group. He can have more than one family.

It’s not normal, per se, but it is okay, and that’s all that he needed to hear.


	4. Walcott

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Natasha and Bruce. He discovers something that's been troubling the Avengers and offers his assistance. Tony's doesn't know how to dad (angst angst angst).

“ _Why would I joke about you being on the news? I have better things to do than joke about_ you _being popular._ ” Lydia scoffs and Stiles can feel her eyes rolling through his phone speaker. “ _The media keeps posting that photo of you and that girl. I’m another TMZ article away from asking you to post one of us; she’s gaining so many followers._ ”

“What girl?” He rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“ _The one from the Empire State Building!_ ” She shrieks.

“We use our indoor voice on the phone, not our Banshee scream.” Stiles chuckles, putting her on speaker and opening his Instagram app. He’s gained seven hundred followers in his sleep, apparently. The photo of him and the girl that he reposted from her account has over one million likes, and when he checks her profile, the original photo has about three hundred thousand.

“ _People think you’re a womanizer because you went out with a fan._ ” She informs him, sounding exasperated.

“I didn’t _go out_ with her, she just asked for a photo when we were up there. She took a picture with Steve and Clint too.” He shrugs, even though he knows she can’t see him. “I don’t see the big deal, as long as she’s not telling MTV that we’re dating, which it doesn’t look like she is.”

He hears mumbling in the background and Lydia’s distinct sigh before he heard Derek’s voice. “ _What’s going on?_ ”

“Some fan of Tony’s asked for a picture and the media is freaking out, according to Lydia, and I woke up with seven hundred thousand more followers than I went to sleep with.” Stiles chuckles. “I’m still in bed. Waking up has become much more interesting since I’ve gotten here, I can say.”

“ _Show me the picture, Lydia_.” He argues, and they must have gone to speaker phone too, because he hears Lydia growling as she probably fought for her phone.

“ _You look… like you’re on a date._ ” He trails off.

Stiles’ eyebrows furrow. “Well, yeah, but we weren’t. She took the picture, asked for my Instagram, and left. Don’t get me wrong, I wish there was a better story, but that’s it.”

He hears Lydia groan exaggeratedly.

Derek takes a breath before replying. “ _You wish?_ ”

“Duh, single boy in New York City with no pack or significant other to cuddle with. I think I’m pining for you guys.” He snorts, looking through his photo library to find an old photo of his friends to post for his new found fame.

He settles on one him, Derek, and Malia lying on the beach. He’s sitting between the two Hale’s, the picture taken from directly above by Kira, with a big smile on his face. Malia’s sticking her tongue out with her eyes closed from the sun and Derek’s eyes are also closed, a blissful and refined smile on his face. He uploads it with the caption _i miss hale sandwiches (p.s. i am not dating anyone and i don’t know why u all care anyway, but u have my word)_ and tagging the cousins in it.

“There, I posted one of us.” He smiles at the screen. “Now they’ll all speculate about my relationships with you guys instead of some random girl.”

“ _I want you to milk this._ ” Lydia pleads humourously. “ _I really, really want to see you as America’s Sweetheart, it would be hilarious._ ”

“You’re getting there.” A voice from his doorway appears, and Stiles looks up to see Steve leaning against the frame. “Trying to steal my title?”

“Hey Lyd, Derek, the dude talking is Captain America.” He says casually. “What’s up, Steve?”

“Tony wants to know if you want to meet Natasha and Bruce. Natasha has to head out soon, actually, but she demanded that she meet you because I got to.” He sighs. “Thor’s currently in Asgard, but he’s apparently thrilled to meet you too. We’re pretty sure Tony convinced him they were brothers from another dimension, so he might treat you like you’re family. It’s going to be interesting, anyway.”

“Uh, sure.” He trails off, waiting for Derek or Lydia to say something.

Lydia breaks the silence first. “ _Are his abs as good in real life?_ ”

Stiles opens his mouth to say _I don’t know_ when Steve states firmly, “Yes.”

He doesn’t even try to hold back his laughter then. “I’ll call you later. I have to wake up and then meet some Avengers, apparently. Love you.”

He hears them repeat his last sentence and then the call ends. He turns to Steve. “I can be ready in, like, ten minutes if I can eat my breakfast on the way.”

Steve nods. “Clock starts now.”

 

\---

 

He’s swallowing the last of his bagel into his mouth when they arrive, glass doors revealing a seemingly endless arena of workout equipment. He’s glad he took Steve’s advice and wore workout clothes when he quickly dodges a punch as soon as he enters the room.

 _Holy shit_ is the only thought he can formulate his mind goes into immediate attack mode. He’s running on complete autopilot, dodging and firing shots and ignoring the shouting from Steve and another male voice to the side of him.

There’s a moment, a few minutes in, where he realizes _who_ he’s fighting. He already knew he was at a disadvantage when he felt their wrapped fist graze his cheekbone, realizing they’d been prepped for a sparring match, but he’d gone through his last few years of high school depending on the fight _and_ flight part of his brain never going dormant, always working together. He didn’t consider any of the logistics of the fight until he saw a very feminine mouth clench when he managed to swipe his leg underneath the leg of woman fighting him, knocking Natasha fucking Romanoff to the ground. When she landed with a thump, he moved to a defensive stance. A hand clamped onto his shoulder and he spun with an open fist only for it to be caught in Captain America’s hold.

He lets out a breath of relief, shaking off the adrenaline.

“What was that, Romanoff?” Steve growls, holding Stiles as he crumples slightly in his hold.

She dusts off her tight outfit, like something a ballerina would wear, and lends him a smirk with a raised eyebrow. “Just seeing if he can hold his own. The rumour mill was far too enticing.”

“What was the rumour mill saying about me, exactly,” Stiles pants, shaking his head incredulously, “that warranted an attack?”

“It said you could handle it.” She smiles. “You ducked and knocked my legs out, but your body language showed you were going to strike with your right hand. I’m a little impressed.”

He nods, stepping away from Steve and holding out the mentioned hand for her to shake. She does to with a firm grip.

“I’ve fought people who can hear your heartbeat from a mile away. Deceiving body language is all I have. That was a surprise, not a challenge.” He decides to be kind of a dick, because she literally attacked him, but she only seems more pleased.

“Well, I wish we were meeting under a better circumstance.” A man in a button up shirt puts himself between the tension of Natasha and Stiles, smiling lightly. “I’m–”

“Bruce Banner.” Stiles smiles genuinely. “I totally did a project on you last year with a friend. She’s a genius, like, already guaranteed a spot at MIT after we graduate.”

“Is a certain skill set required to be your friend or something?” Steve asks, only half joking.

“I’m the only human. If anything, I’m the exception.” He shrugs.

“The plot thickens.” Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Nobody told me he was into weird shit.”

Stiles begins to chuckle, but it fizzles into a glare quickly. “Wait, I’m not laughing with you. You just attacked me for fun.”

“Fair enough.” She tilts her head curiously. Curious of what, Stiles didn’t know, but he figured he didn’t want to find out.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. told me Natasha tried to fight Stiles!” Tony barges into the room. “What is wrong with you guys?”

“How did you know that?” She scrunches her nose.

“I told him to tell me if he was in danger, I just didn’t expect _you_ would be the cause.” He huffs, walking towards the group. “I figured the _don’t fight my kid_ rule didn’t need to be spoken. He could have gotten seriously hurt if you didn’t stop–”

“I didn’t stop.” She sighs. “He got me on the ground by himself.”

“He _what_?” Tony shakes his head, looking at Stiles and then back to Natasha. “No way.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“You do look breakable.” Bruce shrugs and Steve reluctantly agrees, despite the Stiles scowling at him.

“She is probably the best spy and assassin in the world. I don’t feel bad about being surprised.” Tony scoffs.

“Admit it, you thought I was lame.” Stiles raises a challenging eyebrow. “You thought I was going to die when I got a few sparks on my arm.”

“You got sparks on his arm?” Steve inquired.

“He healed himself.” Tony says, annoyed.

“He _what_?” Bruce’s face lit up.

“Déjà vu.” Stiles groans. “I have a little bit of magic. You’re friends with a Norse God, this isn’t that shocking.”

“Did you use magic to cheat?” Natasha furrows her eyebrows.

Stiles grins. “Nope. I have, however, fought Alpha werewolves before. You’re like fighting a blind Alpha – hard, but a lot easier than a regular Alpha.”

“How would you know what fighting a blind Alpha is like?” Steve’s face scrunches up in confusion.

“Not a memory I want to relive.” He dismisses the subject. “Bottom line is that my magic is defensive, for the most part.”

Bruce takes a deep breath “Can I just–”

“Technically, I’m an emissary for a werewolf pack, and there’s some sort of unspoken rule about humans revealing werewolf secrets. Don’t think you’ll get any protection from me if you wake up with claws over your neck because you decided to publish a paper.” Stiles raises his hands in a defensive manner. “But hey, be my guest.”

“I’ll pass.” He visibly deflates.

“Hey, do you know anything about–” Natasha begins, only for Tony to interrupt.

“Don’t you dare, Nat.” He seethes.

“What?” She rolls her eyes. “He might know something we don’t. The kid seems to be more resourceful.”

“You think those murders might be supernatural?” Bruce seems to ponder the thought for a moment before turning to Tony. “I vote we ask.”

“I’m pretty sure I have veto power.” Tony glowers.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Steve interjected.

“Respect your elders, Tony.” Stiles smirks. “Looks like I get to be in the loop.”

“I want you to know I don't like this.” He points between the Avengers. “We’re doing this in the meeting room. Get dressed.”

Stiles pumps his fist in the air.

 

\---

  
The meeting room was grey and boring, a deep contrast to the colourful conversations that had happened in it.

Stiles sat cross legged in a squishy grey chair, looking at the table top in front of him. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Natasha had spread various images of bloody victims and reports across the surface without explanation. Stiles had been looking through them for the past few minutes, silently thinking.

He looks up with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know why you guys got involved in serial killer cases, but this is a Wendigo.”

“A whatago?” Tony echoes.

“It’s a creature native to North America, the Algonquin have legends about them, but they normally stay in Canada. The great lakes are their home territory; you can’t hunt them without certain qualifications there.” He pulls one of the reports to his line of vision and nods. “Sometimes they stray, though. I’ve met one in Beacon Hills. Not fun.”

“What do they do?” Steve asks.

“Well, they have an insatiable craving for human flesh. The human form is always super thin and lanky, like, _constantly_ hungry, but normal otherwise.” He shakes his head to get rid of the images of Sean Walcott, the Wendigo kid he met before. “The shifted form is fucking nightmarish, though. Needlelike teeth, bloody mouth, white eyes.”

“This could be just a crazy cannibal.” Bruce interjects. “How can you be sure it’s supernatural?”

“Most of the victims told a friend or police they felt like they were being followed.” He mulls over the documents. “Wendigos stalk prey for a really long time, to the point where they could pick their scent out in the middle of Times Square. They’re also all torn apart by sharp, unexplainable marks and missing most of their organs. Unless you have a better explanation, that’s it.”

“How do we stop it, oh mighty expert?” Tony rolls his eyes.

“I’m not sure, I’ve only met one. We had a whole thing with bounty hunters of supernatural creatures that drew in some weird assassins. Some dude missing a mouth killed him but we never figured out what he was before Peter killed him.” He mumbles the last part. “He used an axe type thing and hit him from behind. I know they don’t like fire, but it just makes them mad, not hurt. Wear earplugs or headphones for their screaming. I think silver is the only material that can wound them…” He trails off.

“Is there a _but_ there?”

“But, I also learned that from a hunter with the last name _Argent_ , so it might be partial.” He chuckles, despite the situation. “I know there are enchantments to turn someone into a Wendigo. I can look into whether there’s anything on turning one back to human or even just a location spell.”

“Told you he’d be helpful.” Natasha looks at Tony smugly.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Let me call one of my Alpha’s.”

Derek picks up after the second ring, his voice breathy. “ _What’s up? We’re just out training right now._ ”

“How much do you know about defeating Wendigo’s?” He sets the phone down on the table. “You’re on speaker.”

“ _Why would I even dream that you might stay out of supernatural business for the summer?_ ” He can hear the smile in Derek's voice. “ _I don’t know much more than you – silver kills them, they’re less likely to attack around fire. You should talk to Alpha Diaz, their instincts tell them that wolves are their kin; I think my mom used to tell me that they share their kills with packless werewolves from time to time._ ”

“Do you think Deaton might know anything about locating one we already know is on the loose?”

“ _Probably. Call him too. Maybe look into the local hunters for a little bit of an alliance. I think their relationship with Diaz’s pack is similar to ours with the Argents. They’d want to help._ ” He sounds distracted near the end of his statement.

“You alright?” Stiles asks playfully.

“ _Malia! Get off Isaac, he’s already down! This isn’t WWE!_ ” He hears him shout in the background. “ _I think they’re going insane without you to parent them._ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the pack mom, I get it.” He snorts. “I’ll call you if I need anything else.”

“ _Stay safe!_ ” He hears Scott shout in the background.

Derek laughs whole heatedly. Stiles wishes the conversation wasn’t on speaker so he could have had the sound it all to himself.“ _If anything gets out of hand, I’ll be the first one on a flight out._ ”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” He smiles, ending the call.

“Well that was painfully adorable.” Natasha interrupts the silence.

 Steve and Bruce snicker, but Tony’s glare silences them. “Call this Deaton guy.”

Stiles shares a small smile with the other Avengers, complying.

“ _Stiles?_ ” The Druid answers.

“The one and only.” He puts the phone on speaker again. “You busy right now?”

“ _Not currently. I have time for a Druid to spark conversation._ ” The group look confused at his words, but Stiles ignores them.

“Completely not hypothetically, is there any way to locate a Wendigo? We’ve got one terrorizing the big apple.”

“ _Are you looking for a location spell? I believe you have the power to cast one. You would need some rather… graphic supplies._ ” Stiles hears shuffling in the background and assumes he’s looking through one of his many books.

“Lay it on us.” Natasha speaks up.

“ _Always one to work in a team, aren’t you, Stiles?_ ” The veterinarian chuckles into the phone. “ _The only thing I have says you need the eye of a victim, some rosewater, and a map of the general area, so New York City for you._ ”

“I can get an eye.” Tony nods reluctantly. “But this is still weird.”

“ _It doesn’t get normal after that. Stiles, you’ll have to blend the eye and rosewater together and then pour three drops into each of your eyes. After reciting this spell I have, it should give you a vision of the creature’s whereabouts, and you’ll be able to follow their location on the map with your finger._ ”

“Is that sanitary?” He scrunches his nose. “Or does magic just bar the possibility of infection?”

“ _You’ll be fine, as far as I can tell. If anything, it will make your vision clearer._ ” Deaton chuckles. “ _I can email you the spell, I’ll have it translated. It doesn’t have to be said in the language it was written in; according to this it’s worked in Algonquin, French, and quite a few others._ ”

“That’d be great.” Stiles bites his lip. “Any chance there’s a way to turn a Wendigo back into a human?”

He hears Deaton’s sharp intake of air. “ _Stiles, you have to kill them._ ”

“What if it’s just some kid?” Steve argues.

“ _Sean Walcott was just a kid when he murdered a deputy and tried to murder Scott and his mother. I remember the look in his eyes when he refused help from Scott. The hunger is not something you can cure; I need you to not hesitate to strike. You must make sure the heart is shattered – it’s hard, like ice – and make sure the pieces are buried separately, otherwise it will heal itself. They are almost as powerful as an Alpha werewolf only with absolutely no moral compass._ ”

“Heavy shit.” Tony blinks, surprised. “Yeah, we’ll pretend there isn’t a person in there to get rid of this thing. You listening, Captain Do-good?”

Steve glares.

“Okay, Deaton.” Stiles sighs. “Thanks.”

“ _I’ll have it translated by tomorrow._ _In the meantime, you should inform the local Alpha and hunters. They could be of assistance._ ”

“Derek already told me that, I’ll pay them a visit after I have the spell and supplies. We’ll do it with them; they know this area better than I do.” He tears his gaze away from the pictures of bloody victims that still littered the table. “I’ll make sure they know about the heart thing.”

 

\---

 

Tony had been cold since Stiles had gotten himself involved in his business. It kept Stiles from relaxing as he laid in bed all day thinking about whether he was doing something wrong. Tony clearly didn’t want him to meet the rest of the Avengers at the start and was visibly disappointed when Stiles turned out to be something a little more than human.

Did he resent Stiles?

His mind swarmed with insecurity. His mom picked up the phone before he even heard the ring.

“Mom, I don’t know if this is working.”

“Whoa, give your mother a heart attack, why don’t you?” She scolds. “Let me sit down. What the hell is this about?”

“He didn’t want me to know his friends or about any of the supernatural things going on and it feels like everyone is making an effort except for him.” He rambles. “I mean, I’ve hung out with him one-on-one maybe once since I’ve been here? Why did I even come if I’m going to be bored and then not allowed to go out or meet people in the building?”

“You’re not allowed to go out?” His mother asks, concerned.

“I mean, I _can_ , but he asked me to not go out without some sort of cavalry following me.” He sighs. “And I’m actually trying to follow his rules, or whatever, but I came here to meet my father and it feels like I’m more of an annoying little cousin that keeps asking to play with his things.”

“Honey, he seemed excited for you to come. He’s probably just as nervous about you adjusting to his lifestyle as you are about him not wanting him in it. As for the cavalry thing, he _does_ have more enemies than I can count on my hands. Is it that unreasonable?”

“I understand why, to some extent, but I wish he would just _talk_ to me.” He groans.

“Have you brought this up to him at all?” She asks pointedly,

“He’s supposed to be the mature one!” He scoffs. “I’m a teenager; I’m allowed to be riddled with crippling insecurities.”

He knows she’d flick him in the ear if she wasn’t across the country. “Stiles, you sure as hell didn’t get your tendency to avoid conflict with love ones, even if it hurts you, from me. You two are a lot alike. You both want to protect people you care about, and you both don’t always pick the right method.”

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ it to work, the guy just doesn’t want me to do anything! He doesn’t want me to go outside, to meet his friends, to open my fucking mouth even when I’m right.” He whines. “I don’t know how to bond with him if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t think you’re what he expected” His mom sighs. “I think a part of him wanted you to be just a regular kid, but you’re not. It’s not a bad thing.”

“It feels like it.” He mumbles, sinking further into the comfort of his blankets. “I just want this to work. Why isn’t it working? I miss home. Everything fit. I feel like a fifth corner piece to the puzzle here.”

“I miss you too, sweetheart, but I think we both know you fit somewhere over there too.”

“I’m not giving up.” He reassures her, even though his heart hurts. “I think I might fit here, I just don’t know if he _wants_ me to.”

“That’s a conversation you need to have with him.”

Tony backs away from Stiles’ door, moving to his own bedroom silently, having heard more than he wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the episode with the Wendigo and I love Native American folklore. I couldn't resist.


	5. MIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets the potion thing done and temporarily makes Tony think he ran away. Father-son fluffy shit. Derek is jealous and won't admit it.

“Take me to _Delta Housing._ ” Stiles ducks into the backseat of a cab. “As fast as you can.”

“Have a rough night?” The driver asks in a friendly Italian accent.

“No, but I’m about to have a rough day.” He mumbles.

Stiles didn’t sleep after his conversation with his mother. He just lay in bed, allowing his thoughts to run through his head like hamsters on a wheel. He hadn’t let himself get to this close to his demon-possessed sleep schedule since, well; he was possessed by a demon. He crawled out of bed at four in the morning, grabbed a box that was labelled _v eye_ (because apparently Tony had time last night to pick up a victim’s eye from the morgue), shoved the box into his messenger bag, and left the building.

If J.A.R.V.I.S. recognized him gathering his things to leave the building, the AI didn’t alert anyone to stop him.

Stiles couldn’t help but feel weird having a human eye in his bag. He wasn’t usually the one in his group to be doing that which a serial killer would.

“Delta Housing is full of the wolves, no?” The man asks, turning the car onto a new street.

Stiles tenses. “And you are?”

“Relax, I’m friendly. Just curious what Stark tower has to do with them.” He chuckles carelessly.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” Stiles tilts his head so the man can see him in his rear view mirror and stares at him. “I don’t believe you, in case that wasn’t clear. I also don’t care if you forgive me, it just seemed like it made sense to say.”

“Whatever, kid.” He pulls into the building’s parking lot. “I don’t care what you do as long as I get paid.”

Stiles hands him a few bills and gets out of the car, watching it drive away.

The doorman looks at him curiously. “You know you were driving with a Fine?”

“Dude asked about you guys.” Stiles admits cautiously. “Just what I wanted with you, nothing actually about you, but it made me uneasy.”

“Fine sounds like a cool last name ‘til you realize they’re Italian and it means _end_ , then it just seems ominous” He huffs. “We’re on good terms with local hunters, but they always want in our pack business, even if it has nothing to do with them. Nosy sons of bitches.”

“Harmless, though?” Stiles asks nervously.

The guy chuckles, pulling the door open for him. “Most days.”

Stiles enters the lobby area and messaging Ben to let him know he arrived.

He stumbles out of a room with an _employee’s only_ sign a few moments later, wiping his eyes. “If I knew when you called me it would be to tell me you’d be here in an hour, I wouldn’t have picked up.”

“Yes you would have.” He pouts. “I’m temporary pack.”

He sighs, grabbing Stiles’ elbow and dragging him into the elevator. “You’re just lucky Monica likes you or else this meeting would be out of the question.”

“Who’s Monica?”

“Oh, I forgot you only know her as Alpha Diaz. I don’t know your Alpha’s names either, it feels too personal, but you’re kind of pack, for now at least.” He shrugs sleepily. “It slipped out. I’m used to calling her that.”

“I can’t imagine anyone calling Scott or Derek _Alpha_ Hale or _Alpha_ McCall.” He laughs. “I knew Scott when he still ate crayons.”

Ben stifles a laugh.

The elevator opens and Monica Diaz is standing there waiting, much like she was the first time they met, except with a much less inviting expression. As soon as he sees her, she turns around and walks towards what looks like a dining room table, motioning with her finger for him to follow.

“It’s quarter to five in the morning.” She says blankly, taking a seat. “I want to know what is going on and why you need to _borrow_ some rosewater, and by that I assume you mean just use.”

He sets his bag on the table and sits in front of her, watching as Ben decided to sit next to his Alpha.

“So, how ‘bout them murders?” He smiles awkwardly.

Ben furrows his eyebrows and Alpha Diaz blinks, unfazed. “Go on.”

“The Avengers kind of brought up all these unexplained murders and I figured out _what_ was doing it, but I want your help to figure out _whom_.” He pulls the box gently from his bag, realizing the label was in black sharpie and that their noses would pick up the scent now.

“Why the fuck didn’t I smell that?” Ben plugs his nose. “And why do you have it?”

Stiles pushes it back into his bag. “Enchantment on the messenger bag blocks scent. I put it on when I needed to bring wolvesbane with me to dangerous situations, um, like the Alpha Pack.”

“So the _why_ question is still hanging in the air?” Alpha Diaz growls, allowing her eyes to flash red. “Why would you bring a body part to my home?”

“It belongs to a victim of the murders. I can use it, along with rosewater, to find who’s doing this. They’re a Wendigo. I know how to kill it, kind of.”

“You want my supplies for some sort of magic potion, all for a _kind of?_ ” Her eyes are back to brown, but Stiles still feels the Alpha power radiating off her. “I don’t even know what a Wendigo is.”

“I can get rosewater anywhere. I could have gone to Target, but I came here.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not coming as a threat; I am coming as a member of the Hale-McCall pack. This is your territory. _You_ couldn’t explain the murders, _I_ can. That’s not slander, that’s a fact. I am sharing this information because you opened your home to me and it concerns your family. I have seen freezers filled with corpses for food from a Wendigo family. A deputy, someone who I grew up around, was eaten alive by one. They can’t be turned back into a human – they have to die. That’s why I’m here for a _kind of_ , because I don’t want it to have time to find a new victim.”

“Ben, get the bottle of rosewater from the cabinet under the sink.” She says calmly. “Then follow me to the isolation room. I don’t want to wake any of the other wolves with the scent.”

“Isolation room?” Stiles hesitates.

“It blocks out sound and scent from carrying through the walls.” She explains. “For new wolves on a full moon, it’s easier to not have any distractions. We can talk freely there. I don’t want anybody to overhear something and worry. We’ll tell them when we have some sort of a plan.”

Stiles nods slowly and follows her into the doorway.

 ---

“I’m telling you, I have no idea where he went. J.A.R.V.I.S. just told me he left at some ungodly hour, taking the stupid eye with him. I can’t even listen to the thing’s voice right now, and _I_ programmed it. He’s on mute.” Tony fumes, screwing together some metal contraption on the kitchen island, facing his back to Stiles.

Stiles pauses before walking into the room, listening to the conversation.

He didn’t expect Derek’s voice to reply through the speaker that J.A.R.V.I.S. usually talks through. “ _He hasn’t been answering his phone, but I know he wouldn’t go anywhere without planning beforehand. He’s impulsive, but he isn’t dumb. Just give him some time._ ”

Tony exhales noisily. “I heard him talking to his mom last night and I’m afraid I used all the time he was willing to give me.”

Stiles goes even more still, if that’s possible. Is his dad having a heart-to-heart with his crush?

“ _Stiles wouldn’t… wait, is Stiles there?_ ”

Tony scoffs. “Why would I be calling you if he was?”

“ _I hear his heartbeat_.” He sighs. “ _He’s there. His heart is pounding like a rabbit._ ”

“You can hear heartbeats through the phone?” Tony shakes his head, setting down the tool in his hand. “You can tell it’s _his_ heartbeat?”

“Why did you call Derek?” Stiles mumbles, shuffling further into the room, holding the potion he made at Alpha Diaz’s in his hand.

“Stiles!” Tony spins around and blinks. “You’re back. Um, he’s an emergency contact for you.”

“I am.” He nods awkwardly, setting the glass vial down. “I was at Alpha Diaz’s. We made the potion to find the Wendigo. She’s going to come by later so we can actually use it. Apparently it needs to set for, like, an hour or two.”

“ _You have Alpha Diaz’s phone number?_ ” Derek asks.

“Uh, no, I called Ben. He’s a beta in her pack.”

Tony and Derek speak in the same accusatory voice, parroting, “ _Ben?_ ”

“I met him on my first day. Dark skin, tall, funny. He’s nice.” Stiles says defensively.

“ _You sound like his dating profile bio._ ” Derek scoffs.

“Why did you call Ben then?” Tony prods.

“I knew he would pick up.” He explains as if there should be a _duh_ on the end. “And that he’d take me to his Alpha. I needed to fill her in on everything.”

“We told you yesterday that we’d do that together.” Tony rants. “You weren’t even supposed to leave the tower without security!”

“Well apparently you listened to my conversation with my mom, so you know damn well how I feel about that.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “You know _everything_ , don’t you? I’m just some naïve kid.”

“That’s not what I said.” Tony says sternly as Derek growls, “ _Stiles, you left with some guy we don’t know. We have a right to be mad._ ”

“Stay out of this, Derek!” He snaps. “Ben is perfectly normal! He’s my friend. You can be mad I left without telling anyone, but you can’t blame the only person who’s made me feel like I can depend on them since I got here.”

“ _Why don’t you go run off with Ben and join his pack, then?_ ” Derek snarls.

Stiles physically chokes on his words, feeling instant constriction in his chest from his Alpha’s words. “You have the audacity to be jealous right now?”

“ _I’m not–”_

“You just told me to leave the pack because I made a friend!” He cries.

“ _You know that’s not what I–”_

“Why is he jealous? Are you two actually dating?” Tony makes a sour face at Stiles.

“ _What are you talking about?_ ”

“Well Clint just said–”

“God, Dad, shut up!” Stiles covers his face with his hands, flushing red. “Why would you listen to anything Clint says?”

The room is silent as Stiles allows what he just said to sink in.

“I’m sorry.” He rambles. “That probably crossed a line or – okay.”

Tony pulls Stiles into the tightest hug he’s ever been a part of, and he’s hugged werewolves a lot. They’re about the same height, so Stiles’ head awkwardly looks over his shoulder, but it feels familiar when he relaxes into it and squeezes back.

“ _Stiles?_ ” Derek’s voice calls out gently.

“Shut up, sourwolf.” He mumbles, knowing he’ll still hear no matter the volume. “I’m having a moment.”

“ _Wha–”_ The line went dead.

“Did you just hang up on my Alpha?” Stiles pulls away from Tony and sees him grinning sheepishly, holding his phone in one hand.

“It wasn’t crossing a line.” He says nervously.

“It wasn’t?” Stiles tries to push down his insecurities from the night before, but they rise like nausea.

“No.” He repeats. “I meant to talk to you in the morning but you were gone. I don’t know how to do this dad thing. I’m immature, I’m self-centered, and I’m not used to having any sort of real family to look out for. I mean, you can look out for yourself, but that’s kind of hard for me to admit.”

“Why?” Stiles asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I wasn’t the one who taught you. I see that you’re strong mentally and physically, but that’s not just it.” He sighs. “You’re a good kid. You’re brave, loyal, everything I wish I was at your age. You have a good support system around you and I don’t want to mess that up.”

“You won’t.” Stiles says immediately. “You won’t mess it up.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Tony grumbles.

Stiles smiles lightly. “I know that one of us is going to mess up eventually, but I think we can work through it. That’s what family does.”

“I don’t have a lot of experience with family relationships.”

“Me neither, really.” Stiles shrugs. “I have my mom – no cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, or whatever. Family you choose is stronger than any of those.”

“I’d choose you.”

Stiles smiles and hugs him again.

\---

“I’m going to put the drops in on one.”

The chair Stiles is sitting in reminds him of the dentist. It’s in some lab a few floors down from Tony’s penthouse, where all the tests and research is done. When Alpha Diaz and Ben arrived, they brought a map of New York City that included territories of supernatural creatures on it for him to point on.

“Three.”

A scientist named Jane is holding eye drops above his head, biting her lip nervously. She was the best choice for this, according to Tony.

“Two.”

Alpha Diaz could have probably done it. Why is a human better than a werewolf at squeezing something? Who even is she?

He screams as she dropped the liquid into his eyes, lurching forward only to be slammed back by hands on his shoulders. It feels like his eyes are being set on fire, pain stabbing into the sockets.

“Is this supposed to be happening?” Jane panics as the teenager shakes uncontrollably.

“He said it would.” Alpha Diaz growls from his side and he assumes it’s her hand holding his right shoulder down. “Once he starts seeing he’ll stop feeling.”

She’s right, and suddenly he’s in a fuzzy version of what looks to be a café in Brooklyn, his eyes seemingly fine, according to his reflection in the window. That’s probably just his imagination, since he isn’t actually here, but it’s reassuring to not see blood anywhere.

There’s a pale girl inside that he can see at a table with ashy blonde hair cut in a bob. She has the hood of a thick, grey sweater pulled over her head, despite the warm season. Her hands are shaking.

She’s the Wendigo.

The man in front of her appears to be a lover, looking around the same age range of his twenties. He moves to reach out a hand to her and she scowls at him, storming out of the area.

Stiles vaguely feels his hands moving and texture beneath them as he trots behind her but he pays it no mind. He doesn’t know how, but he knows he isn’t supposed to try to talk to her, so he stays silent as he follows her to a house.

He manages to slip inside behind her before she closes the door. The apartment is tiny, which is to be expected of New York City, and reeks of expired meat and blood.

Stiles watches her pull open her fridge and slams his eyes shut when he sees a human head sitting inside, willing himself to awaken.

He gasps as if he was holding his breath throughout the entire vision and leans forward, this time without any resistance.

“Stiles, you alright?” Tony steadies him with a gentle hand on his neck. Stiles knows he has no idea that’s how a werewolf would scent mark their pack, but he leans into the touch as if that was the intention behind the gesture.

“It’s a girl.” He says quickly. “She’s blonde. Did I point in Brooklyn?”

He looks at the map in front of him and sees blue lines on the page in the same colour as the blue on his pointer finger.

“Did you seriously make me finger paint while I was out?” He looks up at the adults in front of him. “Ridiculous. Anyway, she’s here.” He points to the strip of apartments he walked down. “Room 304.”

“That’s surrounded by Fine’s.” Ben mumbles.

“The hunters?” Stiles inquires. “We should probably tell them they’ve got a Wendigo problem.”

Stiles didn’t notice Alpha Diaz was missing until she steps into the room, moving her phone from her ear to hang up. “They already know.”

“Am I going to be filled in on this?” Jane huffs.

“Eventually, but right now, we have a dead hunter in the apartment building you’re pointing to.” Diaz says flatly. “And I have a feeling we all know who did it.”

Stiles gently lifts his hand off the map and sighs. “Someone gather the Wendigo emergency bag I packed. We’ve got a heart to crack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments!


	6. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad takes on the Wendigo. Bruce stays behind because I already suck at fighting scenes and I don't want to mess up the Hulk because I adore him. Stiles, Natasha, and Clint are badass. Thor, Tony, Steve, Ben, and Alpha Diaz get participation medals. Derek is a knight with shiny red eyes instead of armour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly short chapter. I didn't want to add any plot other than the action into it and I'm fairly shit at action scenes, so this is probably not that spectacular, but there's some Sterek fluff! Wooooo!

Thor certainly lived up to all of his expectations (which were godly) when he showed up at the Fine building with his hammer and battle gear ready to go. All of the Avengers except Bruce came to fight alongside Stiles, Alpha Diaz, and Ben.

“Which way to the enemy?” He shouts. “J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me the battle has begun!”

“We haven’t even left the foyer yet.” Natasha sighs.

“Who are these people?” He attempts to whisper to Tony, but his voice comes out booming.

Tony rolls his eyes. “This is Monica, werewolf, and her beta Ben.” He points to the waving werewolves before turning to Stiles. “And this is my son, Stiles.”

“Aha!” He exclaims in glee, dropping his hammer and lifting Stiles into a crushing hug. “This is my nephew!”

Stiles’ feet are dangling off the ground. “Hey, man. We’re on a bit of a tight schedule here.”

Thor lets him down and nods seriously.

A man enters the room and walks towards the group. “Alpha Diaz, who are your friends?”

He looks like a stereotypical mobster from the twenties, with slicked black hair and a twirled moustache to back it up. His suit looks expensive. Stiles almost feels intimidated, but then he remembers the fact that he has a back full of weapons over his shoulder and smiles to himself.

“These are people who know how to hunt this thing, Al.” She deadpans, staring at him with distaste.

“You’ve gathered your own group of hunters.” He smiles condescendingly. “Quaint.”

“Actually, asshat, we’re the Avengers.” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Plus one.” Stiles pipes into the conversation.

“Ah, I’ve heard of _you_.”

“He’s heard of Stiles but he doesn’t recognize the fucking Avengers?” Clint scoffs. “We fought off some aliens, ringing any bells?”

“I am an alien. We are not all bad.” Thor interjects.

The hunter rolls his eyes. “A lot of us are in the taxi business. It keeps us mobile and informed on certain details such as a boy travelling from a Stark building to the local pack of wolves’ den.”

Steve turns to Stiles with his eyebrows raised. “You snuck out?”

“He did.” Ben grins. Stiles smacks him lightly in the arm.

“Are we going to go find the Wendigo now?” Stiles whines, shifting the weight of the bag on his shoulder. “Weapons are heavy.”

“And this _Wendigo_ …” Al trails off. “That thing is killing people? Where is it?”

“Floor three. Room four.” Stiles sighs impatiently. “Let’s go!”

“I have to make sure my men are equipped t–”

“ _We_ are.” Alpha Diaz growls. “I would not come into your territory if not necessary, do not waste my time by pretending your men are ready for this fight when they know nothing about it.”

“Keep it civil.” Natasha warns. “We’re not trying to alarm anyone.”

“This building only rents out to or hires people who understand our lifestyle. You have nothing to hide.” Al replies snarkily.

“Sweet!” Stiles cries, opening the bag over his shoulder and spilling the weapons out. He begins sorting them and attaching them to his body – a blade taped to his leg and a silver bullet gun holstered around his body – before distributing a few more things to Natasha and Ben.

“If you only rent to people you approve, how did you let a Wendigo in?” Ben asks in disbelief.

He huffs, crossing his arms. “The room currently belongs to Alice Truscott. She’s being evicted next month. She came as a girlfriend of one of our friends who went missing a month or so after they moved in together. We didn’t want to kick her out onto the streets while it was a fresh wound, so we gave her two months to settle things before giving her the boot.”

“Aren’t you always supposed to suspect the spouse?” Clint scoffs.

“Alice’s girlfriends were always like that – spacey, mysterious – I didn’t think much of it.” He shrugs. “I guess I should have.”

“You’re nonchalant for someone who knows a murderer is above him.” Natasha narrows her eyes at him. “What’s the deal?”

“I don’t have any reason to believe this _Wendigo_ thing would reside in my home.” He snorts. “They would be far way from native territory. I'm having some doubts.”

“I don’t have time for this.” Tony rolls his eyes, walking towards the stairs. The group stares for a moment before scrambling to follow him.

“We’re going upstairs. If you try to stop us there may be casualties. That’s not a threat, it’s a fact.” Alpha Diaz holds eye contact with Al until he breaks it, nodding.

As soon as Tony slams the door on the third floor open with his shoulder, a screech sounds. The Avengers rush to put in their earplugs and the werewolves immediately fall to the ground in agony. Before Tony could put the tiny piece of foam in, however, he’s thrown to the side of the room by a bony, sickly pale thing, and slumps to the ground unconscious.

Whatever girl was inside the Wendigo is gone right now, and Stiles doesn’t see her coming back.

 _It’s less than a minute in and three people are down_ , Stiles notes with wide eyes, _why didn’t we put our earplugs in earlier?_

Natasha is the next to enter the room, dodging the attack of the creature and landing a swift kick to its chest. It staggers, only to come back with equal speed.

Before it can hit Natasha, Clint hits it with an arrow that buys her enough time to move out of the way. Stiles quickly pulls an immobilization charm to the surface of his fingertips and shoots it at the Wendigo, but it doesn’t stop.

“That was supposed to work, Stiles!” Clint shouts nervously as the creature erratically runs around the room, destroying most of its interior. It knocks Steve into the fridge and Stiles watches as the door falls off to reveal human body parts inside. Steve’s too busy seeing stars to do anything.

“This is getting a little too Jeffrey Dahmer for my taste.” He swallows back bile, pulling a gun out and shooting. The creature seems to ignore the bullets as if they aren’t even penetrating the surface, which they probably aren’t, judging by its indifference.

Thor tries to run towards it with Mjölnir, only to be dodged and run full speed out the window. Or, rather,  _through_ the window.

“Did Thor just fall out the fucking window?” Stiles stares incredulously at the hole in the wall.

“He did.” Natasha's voice comes muffled through his earplug, but he can still make out the words. She continues shooting at it, even after Stiles gives up and pulls his blade out, trying to draw the creature away from the kitchen by moving closer.

“Guns aren’t working, Nat.” He shouts. “I’m going in.”

“Neither are my fucking arrows.” Clint all but growls. “Why would you expect a blade to?”

“Optimism.” He laughs, rushing forward and catching the monster off guard with a jab to its stomach. The blade, laced with every single supernatural poison New York had, actually breaks skin.

Its claws scratch at Stiles’ chest, he’s positive, but he can’t feel any pain with the adrenaline rushing through him. He focuses on its next move, watching as it retreats from his body and stumbles towards the Captain’s unconscious body with its razor teeth elongated. 

Stiles pulls at his spark from the inside as hard as he ever has before and pushes forward, engulfing the monster in flames before it reaches Steve.

The Wendigo screeches as it goes down, finally. Clint pulls out Stiles’ blade from its stomach and stabs it into its chest He digs out the creature’s heart, pulling out the white, ominous rocky lump and throwing it on the floor, smashing it into pieces. It fizzles into a greyish colour and Clint sweeps it into a jar that Alpha Diaz dropped on her way into the room, sealing it off. Stiles slumps in relief against the wall, allowing himself to fall.

“Are you good to go?” Natasha acknowledges him.

“Go, I can heal myself with some magic.” He pulls off a smile for the remaining Avengers. “I’ll follow you in a second; you should get Alpha Diaz, Ben, Tony, and Steve. Make sure Thor’s alright.”

Natasha and Clint nod professionally, something he would expect from the team if he didn’t know them personally, and he watches as they retreat.

He stays still for five minutes, allowing the shock to spill out of his system and regret to pour in. His chest really hurts now. He probably should have left with his group. He should have known his magic was going to be burnt out after the fire spell (fire was never his forte), but he hoped the wound wouldn’t have been as bad.

He pauses when he hears a heavy set footstep and clumsily turns his attention towards the sound, silently praying he won’t have to deal with another supernatural creature.

He does, but it doesn’t concern him, because there are familiar red eyes glowing through the dust and destruction in the doorway.

“Derek?” Stiles gasps. _I’m losing my mind._

The man in question runs towards his figure and helps him off the ground, an arm wrapped securely around his waist.

“You’re hurt.” He growls.

Stiles tries to shrug, but it comes out as a wince. “It’s not bad, just hurts a… don’t you dare!”

Derek rolls his eyes as Stiles glares at the black lines running up his Alpha’s arm. Derek was using his werewolf-ness to suck his pain out of him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“You flew out from _California_ to see this idiot.” Stiles grins.

“You’re _my_ idiot.” He sighs, leading him out of the room and towards the elevator. He presses the button and allows Stiles to lean the majority of his body weight onto him.

Stiles is breathing and blinking heavily.

Derek shakes him gently. “Hey, you got to stay with me, okay?”

He nods jerkily. “Trying.”

“There is no trying.” Derek grumbles, shuffling out of the elevator and into the lobby. “Just do.”

“Well, I can’t fall into the darkness now.” Stiles grins as Derek sets him down onto a loveseat in the lobby. “You just quoted Yoda. Granted, it was paraphrasing, but I’m too excited to die now.”

“Good to know.” Derek rolls his eyes, sitting down next to him. Stiles takes advantage of the opportunity and leans against him. “I can hear an ambulance a block away. The guy at the front desk called the police a while ago.”

“We were wildly unprepared. Nothing went through its skin, we forgot to put in our earplugs beforehand, and now my dad and the fucking _Alpha_ of New York City are unconscious. Maybe even _Thor_. He’s a god.” Stiles pants. “I’m so fucking dumb.”

“They didn’t even know it was a Wendigo before you.” Derek rubs Stiles’ back gently, no doubt continuing to take his pain. “You did well.”

“Why’d you come to New York, anyway? You didn’t know anything bad was going to happen.” Stiles asks quietly, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

“You.” Derek says, like it’s _simple_.

Stiles simply nods, because maybe it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed that.
> 
> P.S. Heroes by David Bowie came on shuffle while I was writing this and I couldn't resist the chapter name. Just for one dayyy!


	7. DTR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles waking up post-Wendigo incident, Tony being pissy about his little boy growing up, Derek and the Avengers, and Derek and Stiles low-key being the fluffiest fluffs to ever fluff (you're welcome).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the nice comments on the previous chapter! This is a little late but I hope you enjoy it!  
> We are coming to an end! *panics*

Stiles woke up to familiar beeping. He’s been in and out of enough hospitals throughout his life surrounding the supernatural to recognize the sound of a heart monitor. He also feels a hand in his and squeezes his fingers around it as he blinks his eyes open.

“Hey.” Derek says softly from his bedside.

He zeroes in on their hands. Derek starts to pull away, flushing in embarrassment, but Stiles simply tightens his grip and smiles lazily.

“What’s up, sourwolf?” His voice croaks and he clears his throat.

Derek grunts. “I wasn’t the one clawed at by a Wendigo. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He shifts in the bed. He feels genuinely relaxed, which is why it isn’t a surprise when he sees the black lines of his pain drawing up Derek’s arm again. Stiles sighs, pulling away his hand roughly. “I can’t tell you how it hurts if you make everything better before I can.”

Derek frowns when he notices Stiles wince at the pain flooding back into his system. “Sorry. Don’t like seeing you in pain. I forget I’m doing it sometimes.”

“You two are like a bad romantic comedy. Stiles doesn’t even try to be comedic, though, he’s just an idiot.” Stiles hears a sarcastic voice from the doorway, which he now notices is the same as the Stark labs. So he’s not actually in a hospital, just the tower’s medical ward. Clint leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Your dad is on his way; J.A.R.V.I.S. notified him.”

Stiles tries to sit up immediately, taking in a sharp breath when the wound on his chest rubs against the bandages. “He’s alright? He was knocked out cold.”

“He’s pretty beat up about it, but not physically. He’s got a complex, kid. For his lack of responsibility, he’s supposed to make up for it by being the smart one.” He rolls his eyes. “He feels guilty for forgetting the earplugs, as if that would have stopped you from getting scratched.”

“It might have.” He shrugs, ignoring Clint’s warning glare. “But something else would have got me next month, or the month after that.”

“Tell that to him.” Derek snorts. “He got mad at _me_ for getting you in an ambulance to here just because it _should have been him_. I’ve never seen someone so mad at the fact that they woke up in a hospital.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at him. It takes Derek a moment to reflect on the various memories of Stiles fighting hospital staff to release him when he’s hurt amidst supernatural troubles.

He snorts. “So stupid bravery and stubbornness is hereditary?”

“I guess.” Tony enters the doorway, walking towards Stiles’ bed and pulling him into a crushing hug.

Derek rests a hand on his leg and he feels the pain from the hug go away, allowing him to wrap his arms around Tony and hug back.

Stiles watches a ghost of a smile appear on Clint’s face as he leaves the room, waving two fingers in a subtle salute of a goodbye.

Tony pulls back, taking a breath. “I forgot the goddamn earplugs.”

“It’s not the worst thing that could have happened.” He grins. “We still beat it.”

Tony huffs. “It should have been side-by-side.”

“Maybe battling monsters isn’t our best father-son bonding activity.” He smiles cheekily. “We could try golfing.”

Tony cracks a smile, taking a seat in an empty chair next to Derek. “So, is this where we have the awkward boyfriend conversation?”

“ _We_ haven’t even had that conversation.” Stiles shakes his head rapidly. “No, nein, non, nada, nope.”

Tony turns to face the werewolf in question. “You flew out to California and you haven’t DTR?”

“What?” Stiles interrupts.

“It means define the relationship. God, am I the teenager between us? Wait, how old is he?”

“Just a few year older.” Stiles laughs uncomfortably.

“ _Derek Hale is twenty two, sir._ ” J.A.R.V.I.S. informs Tony.

“Snitch!” Stiles cries.

“Stiles is sixteen. You’re six years older than him?”

“We aren’t even dating!”

“Stiles, I was asking Derek a question.”

Derek looks at the father and son with side eyes. “Uh.”

Tony sighs. “We’ll have this conversation later.”

Stiles nods. “I would prefer it much, much later.”

\---

Watching Derek interact with the Avengers has to be the funniest thing Stiles has ever been graced with viewing.

Stiles was given the O.K. to move around the morning after waking up, so long as he didn’t leave the tower for a week (which he wasn’t really planning on, anyway). By day three of being up and about, he had spent most of his time in the Avengers open floor, eating their food and playing with their gadgets to keep himself entertained. Derek’s followed him around like the devoted, lost puppy he is.

Stiles has been trying very hard not to reek of arousal and fondness because he knows there’s still an official conversation to be had there, but it seems impossible when they’re acting like boyfriends. They _cuddled_ while watching a movie the day before, something Stiles only thought could happen in his dreams.

Derek awkwardly shuffles, trying to fit his ridiculous leg muscles into the delicate bar stools that Pepper adored enough to pick out for the Avenger’s kitchen’s island. Stiles watches in amusement opposite Derek as he opens his pizza box. It’s like that for less than thirty seconds before Thor walks in, grabbing a slice.

“Thank you, wolf man!” He smacks Derek on the back with the matching strength of a werewolf, smiling.

“It was just for m–” He pauses when he sees the pizza go inside the god’s mouth. “Never mind, enjoy.”

“You have to stand up for yourself.” Clint teases, reaching out for a slice. “Or else people will just take–”

Derek beta shifts right in the kitchen, because he has no manners, and growls at the blond. He pulls his hand back and yelps at the red eyed, furry man defending his pizza.

He shifts back, pulling the box closer to him. “I let Thor have some because he’s a god, you’re just a menace.”

Stiles full on giggles, grabbing a slice of the pizza and safely taking a bite as Clint glares.

“Oh, yeah, only the god and the boyfriend can have pizza.” He rolls his eyes. “I get it.”

Stiles flushes.

Derek smiles smugly. “I’m glad we’re all on the same page.”

“Oh, shit.” Natasha walks into the kitchen area, leaning against the fridge next to Thor. “Did I just hear a confirmation of a relationship?”

Derek looks at Stiles with a raised eyebrow, who shrugs in response. He would have voiced his opinion if his mouth wasn’t full of pizza. He wasn’t exactly _avoiding_ the boyfriend label; he just didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

(But did he expect Derek to start it? There was definitely some hesitation.)

“Honestly, they’ve been dating without a label for long enough. I figured the whole flying out to New York and saving his life thing was a pretty fair declaration of affection.” Clint rolls his eyes. “If he doesn’t say they’re together then I don’t know anything anymore.”

Derek pretends to ponder the thought, grinning when Stiles moves around the island to smack him in the shoulder.

“Do I have to be worried about you being an abusive boyfriend?” He fakes a wince, grabbing the non-existent wound left by Stiles’ whack.

He rolls his eyes, welcoming the open arm that Derek stretches around his shoulder and burying his face into the werewolf’s neck. “Not as long as I actually _am_ your boyfriend.”

Derek’s lips brush along his temple. “You are as long as you want to be.”

“Tony, they just DTR’d!” Clint yells.

“ _I notified him. He’s on his way for a chat of some kind. I don’t know the specifics, I apologize.”_ J.A.R.V.I.S. calls out.

“Fuck.” Stiles laughs, shrugging Derek’s arm off his shoulder and intertwining their hands (something that had become normal over the past few days). “You guys should clear out.”

“I want to watch Derek get interrogated.” Clint whines. Derek growls at him and he flinches. “I’ll go.” Thor and Natasha follow him out of the room with smiles.

Tony enters a moment later with Pepper trailing not far behind.

“Hey dad, hi Pep.” He smiles.

Derek might have tried to pull his hand out of Stiles’ grip to save himself from Tony’s glare if Stiles wasn’t gripping it so tightly.

Pepper smiles back. Tony narrows his eyes.

“How are you, Stiles?” Pepper cuts the silence in the room with grace. “And you, Derek?”

“We’re–”

“You know–”

“It’s all–”

“We mean–”

Stiles and Derek stop their sputtering word vomit and stare at each other. They both crack a small smile, turning back to look at the couple.

“We’re good.” Stiles nods.

“And you?” Derek finishes.

“Oh, I’m much more interested in you.” Tony smiles at Derek, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “How have you been, Derek Hale, twenty-two year old werewolf?”

“Um, I’ve been good, Tony Stark, intimidating weapons designer father of the man I like very much.” He replies hesitantly.

“He’s more boy than man, really, in case you needed another reminder about the whole age thing.” Tony replies quickly.

Before Stiles can take offence, Derek shakes his head, a serious tone suddenly clouding his face. “With all due respect, I think you’re just projecting what you want him to be. He’s one of the smartest and most mature people I know, once you get past the layer of sarcasm and clumsiness. I’ve watched him put others before him and stand in the front lines of a battle. That is not something a _boy_ does. You and I both know he’s not a child. I know Stiles better than I know myself most days.”

“Are you implying something?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

“No offence, but he’s right.” Stiles interrupts, trying to ignore the look in his dad’s eyes. “It’s not your fault or anything, but I think you would get it if you had seen us interacting before. Our friends call us mom and dad as a joke. There’s no power imbalance with the age, we’re really a team.”

“Oh, Stiles is definitely the mom.” Pepper nods sincerely. Stiles chuckles.

“I just–” Tony’s nose scrunches in frustration. “I missed out on you being a kid, and I missed out on meeting Derek when he was just a _crush._ I know he’s a good person because you think he is, and I trust your judgement on that, but it’s still hard to, I don’t know…”

“See me as an adult?” Stiles supplies.  “And not a childhood you have to catch up on?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “Or admit that he knows more about you than I do, that he’s completely capable of taking care of you, and that I’m only holding you back by trying to deny this whole relationship.”

“I don’t need taking care of.” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I’ll always take care of him.” Derek says at the same time.

“This is the most mature conversation I’ve seen you have.” Pepper comments lightly to Tony.

“Family is about working through things. A certain someone told me that.”

“It was me.” Stiles mock whispers.

The four of them share a smile.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. will still inform me of everything you guys do, you know that, right?” Tony says after a moment of silence. “And he’s still staying for the summer. You’re welcome as well, but this is Tony time.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.” Derek nods.

 ---

“I have to update my social media. I have fans now; they need to know I have a hot boyfriend.”

“Do you have to take a _selfie_ right now?” Derek grumbles, the vibration rumbling against Stiles’ back, where leaned against him between his legs.

“We are having a picnic on a helicopter landing pad on the top of a tower for superheroes that my dad owns because I’m a trust fund baby now and if I want to photograph this beautiful moment then I god damn will.” He pulls out his phone. “Do we even have a generation gap between us? You should be just as obsessed with social media as I am, you old man.”

“I won’t argue with a force like you.” Derek says half sarcastically, and half genuinely. “Also, please never call me that again.”

Their faces appear on the screen and Derek’s breath catches at the sight of them together. It looks natural, like they’re supposed to be beside each other.

He even allows himself to smile lightly into the camera, knowing Stiles would prefer it, before hiding his face in his boyfriend’s neck. Stiles definitely continues taking photos through his coyness.

Stiles picks a photo of them where he’s smiling, his eyes on Stiles’ face, not the screen, and crops it to fit into a square shape. The caption he types out is _wait, tony stark’s kid still exists? he’s ALIVE? all ur questions are answered now!! i still have no idea why u all care about me but i now have a hot boyfriend and i am alive and thriving so i’ll continue to keep u updated. <3_

Derek shakes his head in amusement when he promptly uploads it and refreshes the page to three thousand likes, instantly.

“Holy shit.” Derek mumbles. “I haven’t even looked at my Instagram this summer. I have my notifications off and I never use it.”

“Check!” Stiles demands, pushing from his chest and sitting beside him, cross legged.

He pulls his phone out, opening the app tentatively. “Why would seventy thousand people follow me?”

“You’re my arm candy.” Stiles announces dramatically. “And I’m rich, so I’m kind of your sugar daddy.”

“I have my own money, and you’re not buying me shit.” Derek laughs, locking his phone and setting it down.

Stiles pouts. “I _could._ ”

Derek rolls his eyes, laying down on the blanket. Stiles plops beside him, his head finding its way onto his chest.

“This is kind of weird.” He murmurs.

“What’s that?” Derek replies in the same soft, breathy tone.

“It’s strange being so physically close to you in a situation that doesn’t involve hiding for our lives.”

Derek laughs lightly. “We have plenty of time to figure it out.”

“Forever and ever.” Stiles mumbles, burrowing as if he could curl his entire body inside the arm Derek has wrapped around his shoulder.

Derek doesn’t even try to fight the smile from crawling onto his face.

“Yeah.” He agrees after a few moments, absentmindedly running a hand through Stiles’ hair. The younger man’s breathing has steadied out, a sign for the werewolf that he’s in the early stages of sleep. He stares up at the clouds, fluffy and white and filled with some cliché sign of new beginnings that can’t help but swell his heart with hope for the future. “Forever and ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is overdue (duh, I say that every time). basically wrote this two sentences at a time before I had to go work on something else. The story ends here. People are in love and stable and I will let them live in peace because I am a sucker for happily ever after.
> 
> Also: are you team Cap or team Iron Man for Civil War movie? I know it'll be different from the comics, so I'm interested to see what you guys are thinking. Lemme knowwww! I think I had a heart attack when they revealed Spiderman would be in it. I don't know how I feel about Tom Holland just yet, but I have high hopes.


End file.
